


The Price of Revenge

by HakuSaitoSan



Category: Hakuouki
Genre: Alternate Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Past
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-03-02 14:56:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13320573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HakuSaitoSan/pseuds/HakuSaitoSan
Summary: A young girl searches out the Shinsengumi in the hopes of keeping her freedom.





	1. Prologue

A guard cast the girl’s nude body carelessly into the room that had been her prison for over four years. Bloody stripes crisscrossed her back and haunches from the lashing she received from the master, and the bruises and burns that covered her abdomen, arms and legs indicated to the guard that the master’s favored bodyguard had been present during the punishment. The guard looked down at the girl with a contemptuous smirk.

“What a lucky girl you are, Katsumi. Just look at all the attention you’ve been given from the master, ne?” the guard crooned, kneeling down. He ran a finger along her jawline before dropping it to her throat and then across her collarbone. Katsu flinched at his touch but glared up at him in defiance.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Katsumi? But that’s your name, pretty one.” The guard’s voice lowered and his eyes darkened as he continued to look over her body. “Such a pretty little thing when you’re angry....Katsumi.”

“She is a tainted one, Matsuda,” a voice ordered angrily from the door. “Step away. You know the rules.”

Matsuda jolted in surprise and scrambled away from the girl. He turned to face the speaker.

“Konoguchi! I wasn’t going to take her. I only wanted to scare her a bit. You understand, right? No need to bring it up to the master, eh?”

“Get out,” Konoguchi demanded, stepping aside. Matsuda quickly obeyed and Konoguchi turned his attention to the girl.

“On your stomach,” he ordered and Katsu did as she was told without hesitation.

Katsu’s entire body ached. Her muscles were beginning to stiffen and she found it difficult to move, but nobody dared go against Konoguchi. She watched as he carried in a bucket of water and a large jug of sake. She knew what was coming, but could do nothing to stop it. Konoguchi doused her with the cold water, washing away much of the blood. The iciness of the water caused Katsu to jump, but she held herself as still as possible. Konoguchi next uncorked the sake and trickled a small stream of the alcohol over her back. She cried out in pain as the liquid burned into her open wounds. She tried to crawl forward to get away, but Konoguchi placed a foot on the small of her back and pressed down.

“We aren’t done yet, tainted one,” he whispered, his voice like ice.

He moved his foot and poured more sake over Katsu’s body. It seeped into the deep lacerations and washed over the welts and burns with searing heat. Her body jerked spasmodically and she pressed her lips together to keep from crying out again. She was well aware of Konoguchi’s predilection for hearing her screams. He always sought out new ways to hurt her, just to be able to hear them. She fought to deny him any satisfaction this time, but try as she might, she could not suppress her groans. She heard his breath hitch with each sound that escaped her and it both repulsed and terrified her.

Katsu let her mind wander, focused on the parts of her body that did not hurt, slowed her breathing and escaped from the present. A wave of anger washed over her and that fury helped to refocus her mind. She gritted her teeth and pushed the pain away. Her groans ceased. Her thoughts drifted, as it often did, to why she was punished by the master. She was never able to pinpoint an exact reason, other than that she was ‘tainted’. She had ‘bad blood’. She accepted that, since it was obvious in the way that she looked. She was different. She didn’t belong. She withstood the master’s lashings to atone for her ‘wrongness’, in the hope that it would fix whatever was wrong with her. But Konoguchi’s form of discipline was far more frightening to Katsu. His reasonings for the mistreatment weren’t the same as the master’s and Katsu couldn’t understand them. She was suddenly brought out of her musings when, having emptied the jug of sake, Konoguchi kicked her in the stomach. She curled up and crossed her arms over her abdomen. Fighting back the nausea, she struggled to catch her breath.

“Never deny me my pleasures, Katsumi,” Konoguchi snarled as he gathered his items. He left the room without a backward glance. Her last thought, as her consciousness slipped away, was of freedom.

* * *

Her first chance to escape presented itself only days later. Though she was still healing from the master’s most recent lashing, Katsu Matsumori leaped at that chance. She had considered making the attempt many times before, but fear had always stopped her. However, with Konoguchi’s growing cruelty and Matsuda’s new form of attention, Katsu knew she had no other choice. She bolstered her courage, finally coming to the realization that, for her, death was far better than life as she knew it. An attempted escape was worth the risk.

Her room was situated at the back of the compound, with no windows and a single door which opened onto a long, inner corridor. Typically, Katsu could hear men passing along the walkway throughout the day and she would listen carefully to their chatter. She had learned early on that she was non-existent to these men. They forget that she was there, much to her benefit. She had learned a lot about who and what these men were -or, at least as much of it as she could understand.

The master and his men were part of an extremist group called _sonnō jōi_. Katsu wasn’t sure exactly what it was that they did, but she thought it had to be bad. She knew they were hateful, hurtful people. And she knew that the master had a powerful enemy; a Shogunate sponsored policing force called the Shinsengumi. From what Katsu could gather, they were a group of ronin who lived in a small village outside of Kyoto called Mibu. The master’s men whispered about them in the halls, and even the usually tight-lipped Konoguchi had commented on the “bakufu’s mangy wolves”.

Katsu didn’t have much of a plan of escape. She only knew that once she got away from the compound, she had to keep going until she was no long in Chōshu. The master had eyes everywhere and Katsu knew she wouldn’t be safe until she was far from his reach...and Konoguchi’s. She thought that the Shinsengumi would be her greatest hope. She would head toward Kyoto when she escaped and seek out the notorious “Wolves of Mibu”.

The sound of footsteps outside her door roused Katsu from her thoughts. She didn’t have much of a plan for escape, but she knew that if she were going to do it, it had to be now. She waited by the door, sitting with her back against the wall. She slumped down to feign sleep, and a moment later, Matsuda entered her room with a bowl of broth. He set the food down and turned to inspect her. Grinning, the guard reached down to grab Katsu’s ankles, prepared to drag her to the center of the room. To his surprise, Katsu attacked. She brought her left foot straight up, driving it into the man’s groin with all her might.

Matsuda dropped to his knees, the color draining from his face. He groaned and clutched his stomach, trying not to retch. Katsu took advantage of his momentary vulnerability and leaped forward, ignoring her own pain in order to gain her freedom. She fumbled to release the short sword at Matsuda’s hip, and finally jerked it free from his obi, scabbard and all. She raised it above her head and slammed it down on the back of Matsuda’s neck. He pitched forward, unconscious, and Katsu stood transfixed as she looked down at him. For the briefest of moments, she wondered what it might feel like to simply slide the man’s blade across his throat. Emotions....anger, fear, repulsion...nearly overwhelmed her and Katsu turned away from the guard, ashamed of even considering taking his life. She was _not_ a killer; at least not yet, and not of a defenseless man.

She took a deep breath and shook her head to clear it. Quickly, she knelt beside Matsuda, stripped him of his outer clothing, and donned them herself. They were far too large, but she adjusted the ties as best she could, securing them in place. It felt odd to her to be wearing them; she had not been allowed clothing since the day she was captured. She looked down at the small pile of weapons she had removed from Matsuda as she disrobed him. She left the katana where it lay. She was too small to draw the long weapon properly, and it would be too heavy for to swing effectively. She tucked the shorter wakizashi and tanto into the obi around her waist. The several throwing daggers were tucked into special pockets sewn into the hakamashita she had taken from Matsuda.

Once they were all in place, Katsu moved to the door and listened for any noise from the other side. Hearing nothing, she opened the door and peered down the corridor. As expected, there was nobody in sight. She slipped into the hall and sped along the wall. She reached the corridor’s three-way intersection without incident, but just before she stepped around the corner, she heard voices approaching. She stopped in her tracks, her heart leaping into her throat. She searched frantically for a place to hide and saw a closed door off to her left. She dashed toward it, and slid inside, shutting the door behind her. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her jagged nerves, hoping against hope that whoever was coming her way bypassed this room.

She took a furtive glance around to ensure that she was alone. The only light in the room came from a single window set in the far wall. There were two large pieces of furniture in the room; a desk at its center, littered with stacks of papers, and a table in the corner which held a daisho stand with two swords. Katsu stared at the swords in shock. She moved away from the door, her eyes never leaving the weapons as she crossed the room toward them. For a moment, Katsu forgot about the men in the hallway. She forgot about escaping. She forgot about everything but those swords.

She stopped beside the table and lifted the katana from the stand. It was heavy...far too heavy for her, but she didn’t care. She ran her fingers over the hilt as tears stung her eyes. She brushed them away angrily. These swords...they were her father’s. She would have recognized them anywhere. But why did the master have them? Memories came flooding in, assailing her mind; her father lifting her high into the air until she squealed with joy and fear intermingled; her father’s face, full of love and tenderness; her father’s face, full of anger and fear...shouting for Katsu to run and hide. She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting to block out the horror of those darker visions. Her father was dead. He had died that day, while she hid away, crying and frightened. She gasped at the vividness of the flashback. She felt so confused. Her father had died years ago, long before she was captured and brought here by the master. So how had her father’s swords ended up here? It made no sense.

A noise caught her attention, snapping her back to the present. She ducked down, waiting with bated breath to see if she had been discovered. After several long minutes, she allowed a small sigh of relief to escape. She stood, regaining some of her equilibrium. She made a swift decision. She would take her father’s swords with her. She removed Matsuda’s wakizashi and set it aside, replacing it with her father’s kodachi. His katana, far too long for Katsu to wear on her hip, was strapped to her back and tied securely. She kept Matsuda’s tanto and the kunai.

She turned toward the door, ready to leave, but her eyes fell upon the papers on the desk. She paused, her every instinct telling her that the documents there might be important to the master. She moved closer and scanned through them, but they made no sense to her. Unable to read the words, she shuffled through them at random, grabbing different pages. Near the bottom of the stack, she found a hand-drawn map. She pulled it out and studied it. It wasn’t of a place she recognized, but she tucked it and the few other sheets she grabbed into her hakamashita. Satisfied with her decision, she crept to the door and listened intently for any sound from the other side. Hearing nothing, she cautiously slid open the door and moved swiftly into the corridor. She fled down the hallway to the outside door, slid it open and disappeared into the darkness.

 

 

 

 


	2. A Fateful Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captains, ninjas and rogues.....Oh My!

The Shinsengumi’s third unit captain, Hajime Saito, followed behind his men as they made the forty minute trek back to Mibu. The soldiers were tired and uncharacteristically disgruntled. The sun was just dipping below the horizon and they were late returning from their patrol of Kyoto. The day had started out slow enough, although the townspeople were wary and tension in the city was palpable. Saito’s men, usually as stoic as their captain, were restless. Everybody was on edge, but nobody stepped out of line until late in the afternoon.

Rumors were circulating throughout the city that large numbers of Chōshu rebels were on the move, but Saito was more troubled by the stories of _sonnō jōi_ extremist activity in the area. If _those_ rumors proved to be true, the Shinsengumi could be called to action at any time. That could be…problematic, since both the vice commander and the deputy commander were away in Osaka.

While Saito considered the possible ramifications of such a situation, a large group of ronin took it upon themselves to rid Kyoto of the troublesome ‘Wolves of Mibu.’ Brazen with drink and full of ill-will for the Shogunate, they surrounded Saito’s men and attacked. Unfortunately, for the rogues, Saito’s ‘wolves’ were among the best swordsmen in the Shinsengumi, and quite possibly the whole of Kyoto.

The battle was short but fierce; the encounter bringing the entire city’s tension level to its breaking point. The ronin were dealt with swiftly and efficiently, but the remainder of the afternoon found Saito and his soldiers fighting skirmish after skirmish, though none of any consequence. It made for a tiring and trying patrol, and because of those numerous -albeit small- clashes, Saito and his men left Kyoto an hour behind schedule.

The delay caused Saito to miss the first division captain, Souji OKita. Saito and Okita typically met up to make the journey home together whenever they were scheduled for afternoon patrol at the same time. Saito sighed inwardly. He had hoped to discuss the _sonnō jōi_ rumors with Okita.

When the third unit finally reached Mibu, Saito sent his men into the temple where the rank and file soldiers lodged, with orders to eat and rest. He continued on to the Yagi residence, which acted as both a headquarters for the Shinsengumi, and sleeping quarters for the leaders and unit captains. He had nearly reached his destination when muffled shouting in the vicinity caught his attention. He realized it would likely be drunken revelers just heading home from Kyoto’s red-light district, but his instincts told him otherwise. He changed direction and moved swiftly down a darkened side street, toward the commotion.

* * *

 

Katsu arrived in the small village of Mibu just after sundown. She was exhausted, half-starved, and stiff from her injuries, but she forced herself to keep going. She was grateful to find the village streets nearly deserted at that late hour. People made her nervous, and she had discovered early on in her journey that she drew a lot of unwanted attention.

Katsu was small in both stature and physique, and she looked much younger than her fifteen years. But what drew the eye of most passers-by was her hair. It was an unusual platinum color, and though she wore it in a high ponytail, it still hung to her waist. Her rail-thin body and male clothing cause most onlookers to assume she was male, even with her more delicate features. And her demeanor was decidedly more male than female.

She wore a sword at her hip, had another strapped to her back, and she walked with a quiet confidence that most girls her age lacked. While she _was_ wary of people, she was not afraid of them. She wasn’t timid or shy. She was cautious. Most travelers gave her a wide berth if they happened to catch her eye. Unknown to Katsu, she gave off a very cold, intense vibe.

Due to the strangers’ reactions, Katsu opted to use the backstreets of Mibu as much as possible to avoid notice. She edged along a narrow alleyway and struggled to concentrate on her surroundings. Her head was swimming, and she was weary from her long and frantic run from Chōshu. It had taken her nearly a week to make the journey, and now that she had reached Mibu, she still needed to find the Shinsengumi. But that would have to wait until morning. For now, she simply wanted to find a safe place to rest for the night. She would continue her search at daybreak.

Somewhere in the distance, Katsu heard men’s voices and the occasional burst of raucous laughter. The proximity of the buildings caused an echo, making it a challenge to gauge how far away the men actually were, or even from which direction they came. She spotted a stack of wooden crates mid-way down the alley and moved quickly toward them. She crouched down behind the pile and waited.

The chatter of men came nearer and Katsu watched the small group round the corner a mere few feet from where she had concealed herself. Slowly, Katsu moved her hand to the kodachi at her hip. She hoped she would not have to use it; that the men would not notice her. Given her current condition, she wasn’t sure she would be able to defend herself. Luckily, the men passed by without so much as a glance in her direction, and Katsu let out a pent up breath. She waited, and when all remained silent after several minutes, she peeked out from behind the crates. Cautiously, Katsu stepped out from her hiding place, keeping her hand on her short sword just in case.

She winced as a wave of pain pulsed through her body. Being in a crouched position for so long had tightened her already aching muscles. Her back felt raw from the coarse material of her hakamashita rubbing against the welts and cuts from the master’s last punishment. She drew in a deep breath and pushed the pain away. She had only taken a few steps away from the crates when she heard a gruff voice speak behind her.

“What’s a brat like you doing out so late, hmm?”

Katsu spun around to face the man. She tightened her grip on the kodachi even as she berated herself for letting down her guard. She hadn’t even heard the man approach. She eyed him warily and took a step back. She hadn’t missed the look of greed that flashed across the man’s face when he saw Katsu’s swords. Katsu recognized the type of man all too well; rouge samurai, out to steal or kill for pleasure and profit. The master had surrounded himself with men of similar character.

“Not talking, boy?” the samurai continued.

Katsu took another step back. She considered running away, but could she move fast enough? Should she hope to catch the man off-guard and attack instead?

“Nice swords. Why don’t you hand them over?” the man asked, a venomous smile on his face.

Anger welled up inside Katsu as she listened to the samurai’s demands. There was no way in hell that she would hand over her father’s swords. She only recently acquired them and they were all she had left of the man she was just beginning to remember. She kept her eyes trained on the samurai, watching for any tell-tale sign of impending attack. If there was one thing Katsu learned during her years of captivity, it was how to read facial cues and body language.

When the samurai suddenly rushed forward, Katsu was ready. She lunged to the side just as the ronin brought his sword down in an arc. The blade missed Katsu by mere inches. She unsheathed her kodachi with shaking hands and slashed wildly at the samurai. She felt it when the tip of her sword made contact, and she heard the samurai hiss in pain. A thin ribbon of blood appeared along his ribcage.

Katsu didn’t give the samurai an opportunity to strike back. She spun on her heel and kicked out at him with all her might. Her foot connected with the samurai’s sword arm, just below the elbow, and his weapon clattered to the ground. While Katsu’s attack was successful, it was not without its drawbacks. For a brief moment, Katsu had left herself open to a retaliatory attack. The samurai seized the opportunity, drew his short sword, and aimed it at Katsu’s chest. He glared down at her as he took a step closer. Katsu froze for a fraction of a second and then scrambled to the side as the samurai brought his blade down.

Her slight hesitation cost her. The samurai’s blade bit into her shoulder with so much pressure that Katsu was forced to her knees. She clamped a hand over the wound, terrified at the amount of blood she saw. She tried to get to her feet but the battle was taking its toll. She was beginning to feel the full effects of her injuries -old and new- and she was exhausted from her journey. She closed her eyes, her horror growing when she realized that she had no strength left to regain her feet, let alone fight back against an armed samurai. She felt his hands close around her throat. He lifted her high into the air and squeezed.

“End of the line, kid,” he snarled, adding more pressure. “You should have just handed them over like a good boy.”

Katsu couldn’t breathe. She struggled to break away from the samurai’s firm grip, but his fingers were like iron cables around her neck. She was losing her ability to focus. She kicked her legs, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. The samurai laughed at her.

“Not even close, brat!”

He added more pressure to her throat and Katsu slowly ceased fighting altogether. She had nothing left to give. Her whole body felt numb. She knew she was losing consciousness. Her last thought before the darkness took her completely was that death wasn’t so bad. It was cold…but pain-free. She let herself drift away and felt no more.

* * *

 

Souji Okita paced the length of his room, his irritation growing by the minute. He wanted to discuss the rumors flying around Kyoto with Saito, but the younger captain still had not returned from his patrol. Not that Okita was worried; he knew that Saito could handle himself better than most men. What bothered him was the peculiarity of the situation. Saito was _never_ late.

The first unit had waited just outside of Kyoto for a quarter-hour before Okita had sent them on to the temple. He had stayed behind for another half-hour, and then walked the two miles to headquarters alone. Now, thirty _more_ minutes had passed and there was still no sign of Saito. Muttering a curse under his breath, Okita adjusted the swords more securely in his obi and stormed out of the room.

At the front gates of Yagi House, Okita found the guards in the middle of changing over for the night watch. He stopped to question them and learned that Saito’s men had returned to the temple ten minutes earlier. Okita frowned. With an exasperated sigh, he turned away from headquarters and strode purposefully toward Mibu Temple. He would verify for himself that the third unit had returned without their captain. After that…he would see. He was so focused on his task that he failed to notice the shadow that followed along on the rooftops.

Susumu Yamazaki, the Shinsengumi’s only shinobi and medic, tailed the first unit captain from a distance; just far enough away to keep from being discovered. He was not in the habit of spying on his superiors, but with Vice Commander Hijikata away in Osaka, the shinobi felt it prudent to keep tabs on the sometimes _unruly_ Okita. And while Yamazaki didn’t always agree with Captain Okita -in fact, agreement was a very rare occurrence- he shared the man’s interest in Captain Saito’s tardiness.

Yamazaki had listened as Okita question the guards. He found it extremely unusual that Captain Saito had not sent word to headquarters if he knew he was going to be late. It spoke volumes to the young shinobi, who rather revered the third unit captain. Unlike many of the…less responsible…captains, Hajime Saito was an exemplary officer. If he was late coming back to headquarters, there had to be a reason.

Okita had only traveled a half-block when the faint ringing of metal on metal made him stop. It was a sound he knew all too well; the clashing of swords. Intuition told him that if he followed the noise, he would find Saito. He strained to listen more closely, trying to judge from which direction the battle was taking place.

“Ninja-boy,” he called out, causing the shinobi to flinch. “Don’t worry,” he added with a smirk, “I’ve only known you were there for… oh, a half-block or so.” He snickered as Yamazaki dropped lightly to the ground beside him.

“Captain Okita,” Yamazaki acknowledged coolly, his expression neutral.

Okita noted the slight flush on the other man’s cheeks and his grin widened. He would have enjoyed thoroughly discomfiting the younger man -and for a moment, he was truly tempted- but the timing was bad. Growing serious, he delivered his instructions.

“You here that?” he asked, and when Yamazaki inclined his head, added, “Get Shimada and then come find us. I’m pretty sure Hajime-kun is over there having all kinds of fun without me.”

“Hai!”

Okita watched as Yamazaki dashed away and then he turned in the opposite direction. He took off at a fast pace, hoping his instincts were correct and that he could get there before all the excitement was over.

* * *

 

Saito rounded a corner and discovered the source of the disturbance he had heard. A samurai held a struggling child in the air by his throat. The kid’s body slowed its movement as Saito watched and then went completely slack. Just as Saito took a step toward the pair, a small group of men entered the alley from the opposite end. Their attention was immediately drawn to the child and so Saito went completely unnoticed.

“Oi! Sawa, what the hell are you doing?” one of the men called out, his voice angry and harsh. “We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile here, you damned idiot!”

The man called Sawa glared over at his comrades, but dropped the child to the ground. The kid groaned, but remained motionless.

“Stupid kid didn’t want to give up his swords. I was trying to change his mind, that’s all,” Sawa stated with a shrug.

“Fool! Dead bodies draw unwanted attention.”

“He’s not dead! Besides, he looks to be just a stray pup. Nobody’s even going to miss him,” he muttered as the ronin circled in around them.

Saito inched closer; a quiet shadow, as yet undetected by the five ronin. He stopped just short of what he felt would be their weapon range and spoke, his voice low but cold as ice.

“Step away from the child.”

The reaction of each man was instantaneous. Three of them drew their swords and took up defensive stances. The other two stepped backward, their eyes wide and tinged with fear.

“Shinsengumi!” one of them called out in warning.

Saito was not surprised to learn that the men recognized his blue haori. The Shinsengumi uniform was well-known throughout Kyoto and its outlying villages. What _did_ surprise him was their choice of temporary lodgings. Most rogue activity occurred within Kyoto proper; to settle in the same village where the Shinsengumi made their headquarters was…foolhardy.

At that moment, Katsu began to stir and Sawa pointed his sword at her chest. She attempted to scramble back, but she was too weak and her movements too sluggish. Growling a curse, Sawa kicked her in the stomach with enough force to lift her body off the ground. Katsu gagged and clutched her stomach. She curled up on her side, drawing her knees to her chest.

Without warning, a sword appeared above her. Startled, she looked up and found a stranger standing over her. Without a word, his sword danced among the ronin, his movements quick and precise. He was a blur of motion that Katsu couldn’t follow. In a matter of minutes, all five men were lying on the ground in varying degrees of impairment.

Unsure of what to expect next, Katsu watched her rescuer. She was surprised to see that the stranger, though obviously a strong warrior, was not a large man. He stood just below average height with a lean build. His long indigo-black hair was tied in a loose, low ponytail that hung over his right shoulder. His face, half-hidden by long bangs, was pale and thin. He looked young to Katsu. Most of the master’s men had been older, but the stranger appeared to be no more than nineteen or twenty years of age. He performed like a veteran warrior, however, and his skill attested to how long he had battled with a sword.

But what startled Katsu most about the swordsman was his eyes. When he looked down at her, his eyes were cold and bright; a vivid shade of deep blue. Katsu couldn’t read them at all; they showed no emotion.

Katsu attempted to rise, wary of what the stranger might do next, but she got no farther than her knees. The movement was too sudden and she was overcome by dizziness and nausea. She drew in a deep, shaky breath to keep herself from retching. The swordsman placed a firm hand on her good shoulder, forcing her to remain seated.

“Do not worsen your injuries,” Saito rebuked mildly as he glanced over his shoulder to the ronin behind him.

He wasn’t especially worried about the men, though it never hurt to be cautious. _If_ the men regained consciousness anytime soon, which Saito doubted, none of them would be able to wield a weapon; he had seen to that. He turned back to the child and sighed inwardly.

Children, including the one at his feet, unnerved him. They were…unpredictable. So far, this one had continued to stay calm, for which Saito was immensely grateful. He wondered how long it would last. The boy was most likely in shock. Since he remained silent, Saito first removed the katana that was strapped to the boy’s back and then turned his attention to the boy’s shoulder.

He removed the dagger from the boy’s obi and used it to cut the torn sleeve away from his wound. The gash was deep and still bleeding, but it wasn’t bone deep. It would definitely need sutures. For the time being, Saito would have to make due with binding it as best he could. Thankfully, it was a clean cut and would likely only leave a slight scar if treated quickly and properly.

Saito ripped the severed sleeve into strips and used it to wrap the boy’s shoulder tightly to stop the bleeding. He completed a cursory inspection of his body to scope out any other major wounds, but the task was nearly impossible in the dark. He ran his hands along the child’s arms and legs but found no broken bones. He checked for and removed any weapons he found, placing them in a pile behind him. He looked at the child’s face and sighed. The boy had lost consciousness during Saito's ministrations. He considered trying to rouse the boy, but quickly set the thought aside and got to his feet.

Saito walked among the downed ronin and began removing weapons, setting them off to the side. He scanned the area and discovered a kodachi that matched the katana he had taken off the child. He placed it with the other weapons he had found on the boy, including his tanto and several kunai. He tensed when he heard a noise behind him, and he turned with his hand on the hilt of his sword. A figure stepped out of the shadows and Saito relaxed.

“Hajime-kun!” Okita called out as he sauntered forward, winding his way between the ronin with a smirk.  “You’ve been busy, I see.”

Saito inclined his head as he surveyed the ally, but said nothing. Okita peered behind his comrade to the small form lying on the ground. He walked over and nudged the child with his foot, and then knelt down for a closer look.

“Weird hair…you ever see a color like that?” he asked.

“No.”

“Hnh…not much to him, is there? Kid looks like hell. I take it you noticed the burns?” he asked, lifting the child’s exposed arm.

“Yes.”

Okita shook his head although he was used to and expected Saito’s minimal responses to his questions. The man wasn’t much of a conversationalist. Moving his attention back to the child, Okita turned the boy’s head from one side to the other and then stood.

“Okay, so here’s the big question…What are you going to do with him?”

Saito looked down at the child, his expression impassive. He had been contemplating that very thing for several minutes. Only one month prior, he, along with Okita and Vice Commander Hijikata, had come across another child; a young girl named Chizuru Yukimura. The vice commander had taken her to headquarters even before they discovered she was a girl. Though the circumstances here were completely different -Yukimura had seen things she should not have, and was therefore not allowed to leave the Shinsengumi- Saito felt that taking this child to headquarters was his best option. Chief Kondo would decide what to do from there.

* * *

 

Yamazaki raced back toward headquarters to locate his roommate and fellow Watch member, Kai Shimada. At this hour, he knew where the man would most likely be, so he headed toward their shared quarters at Maekawa House. Once he reached the compound, he slipped quietly over the exterior wall so as not to attract unwanted attention. He called out to Shimada as he slid open the door to their room and ducked inside.

“What is it?” Shimada asked immediately. The older man was surprised to see his comrade back so soon.

“Okita-kumicho, and perhaps Saito-kumicho, require our immediate assistance.”

Shimada’s eyes widened in surprise, but he rose from his futon and quickly began to dress. He was remarkably nimble for a man of his size; he towered over Yamazaki by more than a half-foot and easily weighed twice as much. Many of the rank and file soldiers teasingly called him ‘Rikisan’ due to his sumo-like appearance. As large and daunting as Shimada might look to a stranger, Yamazaki knew him to be a kind and gentle man -too much so at times- though a formidable warrior. The shinobi trusted Shimada with his life and was glad to have him as a partner.

The two men departed the compound and ran along the path Yamazaki had taken previously. Shimada listened as Yamazaki filled him in on the situation; Captain Saito’s prolonged absence, meeting up with Captain Okita, the sounds of swordplay, and finally, Captain Okita’s orders. Shimada let the information sink in as they reached the area were Yamazaki had last spoken with Okita.

They paused just long enough for Yamazaki to get his bearings and then headed in the direction where he had last heard the sounds of battle. At first, all was quiet and the shinobi began to doubt himself just a bit. But as they continued, they heard the distance tones of Captain Okita just ahead. Yamazaki and Shimada rounded the corner and were relieved to find both captains present and unharmed. They were standing over a small child with several samurai incapacitated and tightly bound lying on the ground behind them.

“Shimada, Yamazaki,” Saito acknowledged the inspectors with a nod.

“ _Finally_ ,” Okita quipped with a sly glance at Yamazaki. “You took your time, didn’t you?”

Yamazaki stiffened and flushed with anger but said nothing. Before anything else could be said, Saito stepped in with instructions.

“Shimada, you will assist Souji and myself with securing these samurai. Yamazaki, the child has suffered injuries that require your attention.” Saito paused before adding, “In addition to the laceration to the shoulder that I bandaged, the boy received a severe kick to the abdomen.” Satisfied that he had relayed all pertinent information to the shinobi-medic, Saito refocused on the task of rousing the samurai for the short trek to headquarters.

Yamazaki knelt beside the child and completed a brief visual inspection, though it was difficult to see in the moonlight. But even in the near-darkness, he had no trouble seeing the child’s pallor and gaunt frame. He checked vitals and frowned; the child was warm to the touch which was a probable indicator of infection.

He pressed gently on his patient’s abdomen, his frown deepening when the child groaned and tried to move away from his touch. Yamazaki made a mental note to check the boy’s stomach again later. Tenderness was expected, but not for a prolonged amount of time. He then ran his fingers along each side of the child’s rib-cage, searching for any sign of broken bones. Finding none, he looked over to Captain Saito and the others. The ronin were up and ready to be taken to headquarters for questioning. Saito nodded to the shinobi, who lifted the excessively light body in his arms. The ragtag group set out, slowly making its way toward Yagi House.


	3. Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katsu answers some questions....

Souji’s mind raced as he led the way to Shinsengumi headquarters. The five captive ronin stumbled after him in an attempt to match his quickened pace. A couple of steps farther back walked Saito and Shimada, their hands hovering over their weapons in silent warning. Yamazaki trailed behind them all with the unconscious child in his arms.

Souji thought about the quick plan of action he and Saito had sketched out while the shinobi played doctor with the kid. Souji would locate Shinpachi Nagakura, the Shinsengumi’s second unit captain, and have him assist with interrogating the ronin. After that, Souji would report to Kondo-san and Yamazaki could so as he pleased with the brat.

Saito and Shimada split off from the group once they reached the front gates of the Yagi residence. They led the five ronin to Maekawa House, which sat across the street from headquarters. The Maekawa residence was used primarily to hold and interrogate prisoners. It also housed a few members of the Watch, as well as Deputy Commander Keisuke Sannan, who preferred the privacy Maekawa offered for his research.  The subjects of that research also resided there, which made things much more simple and efficient.

As luck would have it, Souji spotted Nagakura as soon as he and Yamazaki entered the Yagi compound. He was sitting outside of Chizuru Yukimura’s room, chatting with two other captains. Heisuke Todo and Sanosuke Harada both looked up when Nagakura suddenly stopped speaking mid-sentence.

“Souji, what’s up?” he asked as he stood, his eyes focused sharply on the first unit captain’s unusually serious expression.

“Hajime-kun had a run-in with some... _interesting_ ronin. Why don’t you go help persuade them to talk?” Souji spoke quietly, not wanting Chizuru-chan to overhear should she still be awake.

Nagakura nodded his understanding while Heisuke and Harada got to their feet. Heisuke looked as if he were ready to fire off an endless stream of questions, but a glare from Souji —and a not-so-gentle tap on the head from Harada— made the youngest captain reconsider. He turned and scowled up at his friend.

“Ow, Sano-san! What was that for?”

But Harada wasn’t listening. He had caught a flicker of movement and was surprised to see Yamazaki standing quietly in the shadows, a small body held in his arms. Harada stepped around Souji and waved to Shinpachi, who was heading toward Maekawa house.

“Yamazaki, looks like you could use some help.”

“Harada-kumicho?”

“Why don’t I take the kid and you can lead us to wherever it is you need to go.”

“Hai!”

Yamazaki wondered for a brief moment if Captain Harada thought him incapable of dealing with the child on his own, but he swiftly dismissed the notion. He was well-acquainted with the captain and knew that Harada was truly only trying to be helpful, not judgmental. Yamazaki carefully transferred the child to Harada’s outstretched arms. The movement elicited a quiet whimper from the kid and Harada tensed.

“There are injuries to his abdomen and shoulder,” Yamazaki explained. “Movement of any kind will likely be painful for a short time.”

Harada looked down at the kid and set his jaw. After a moment of consideration, he realized that the child’s injuries explained why the shinobi-medic had not carried the boy over his shoulder, which would have been much easier. He looked over to Souji and Heisuke, who were having a heated —albeit quiet—discussion.

“But what should _I_ do,” Heisuke was asking in exasperation, his voice rising.          

“I’ll tell you what you can...” Souji started, only to be interrupted by Harada.

“Oi, you two! Heisuke, somebody has to stay here and guard Chizuru-chan, right?”

“O-Oh! Right! Hey....who’s the kid?”

Souji, having had enough and wanting to find Kondo-san, muttered something under his breath and stalked off, waving a hand in clear dismissal.

“Damn! What’s his problem, anyway?” Heisuke asked.

Before Harada could respond, a quiet voice interceded.

“Kumicho, the child?”

“Ah, right! Lead the way, Yamazaki. Heisuke, you stay here with Chizuru-chan, yeah?”

“Yeah!”

Yamazaki turned on his heel and headed toward the closest room he knew to be empty. Harada followed close behind, his steps nearly as silent as the shinobi’s. The room Yamazaki chose was close to the kitchen; only a small storage room separated the two. It held a large futon cabinet in one corner, and a brazier, small table, and a few odds and ends in another. Yamazaki slid open the door, lit the single lantern in the room, and then stepped aside to allow Harada to enter with the child.

Yamazaki went to the cabinet, pulled out a futon, and set it up. While Harada knelt to lay the kid on the thin mattress, Yamazaki began to set up the brazier. While he worked, he went over a mental checklist of items he would need to tend the child’s wounds: water for steeping medicine and cleaning wounds, sake for disinfecting, extra cleaning strips, clean clothing if possible, and an extra lantern. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the child’s sharp outcry, followed by a mild oath from Harada.

“Damn it! I thought I was being pretty careful,” Harada insisted as he looked up at Yamazaki, noticeably disconcerted by the kid’s reaction.

“The fault is not yours, kumicho,” Yamazaki soothed, coming to kneel down opposite his superior. “His injuries will be painful with even the slightest movement. It cannot be helped.”

Harada frowned but nodded his understanding. He got to his feet and looked over to the brazier, its setup only halfway completed.

“What can I do to help? Want me to finish that up for you?” he asked the medic, thrusting his chin toward the brazier.

Yamazaki was still crouched next to the child, but he glanced over to the brazier and then up to Harada.

“Your assistance is greatly appreciated, Harada-kumicho, but I can manage the brazier. However, there are several items I will need for the child’s treatment, and I would rather not leave him.”

“Say no more. Tell me what you need and I’ll get it all together for you.”

Yamazaki’s brows knitted together as he considered the best way to proceed. Promptly coming to a decision, he looked up at Harada.

“I need water above all else. If you would bring...” He paused to calculate his needs before beginning anew. “If you would bring two large jugs of water from the well first, I will make a list of the remaining items I require while you are gone.”

“Sure, I can do that. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” With a small wave and a quick smile, he slid open the door and disappeared into the darkness beyond.

Yamazaki reached into one of the pouches attached to his belt and drew out a slender box. Inside lay several slips of paper, cut down to size. He laid a sheet aside and pulled out the inkstone and one of two inksticks he always kept on his person. In his line of work, both as a medic and a shinobi, the ability to send messages quickly was vital. And Yamazaki prided himself on always being prepared.

He drafted a list in quick, polished strokes and was giving it a second going-over when Harada returned. Yamazaki watched as the captain set two jugs down inside the door and then ducked back out again. When he reappeared a moment later, he held an unlit lantern in his hand.

“Thought you might need more light, so I picked this up on the way,” he explained with a shrug when he noted the shinobi’s raised brow.

Yamazaki rose to his feet with a small smile and stepped around the futon. It was very much like Captain Harada to think of such things. Of all the captains, Yamazaki found Harada to be the most aware of other people’s needs. The medic often wondered how he —and Todo-kumicho, too— was able to compartmentalize his caring nature and his ruthlessness as a warrior. The two seemed to be polar opposites, but Harada had never wavered. Shaking his head in bemusement, Yamazaki handed over the list he had prepared and took the lantern Harada held out.

“Thank you...Please disregard the lantern I have listed.”

Harada cast a quick eye over the list, his lips pursed as he read.

“I assume you need the sake and cloth strips right away? I’ll grab those first and then tackle the rest of the list.”

“Hai, arigatou.”

Harada took his leave once again, and Yamazaki began preparations for the child’s treatment. He lit the second lantern and moved it closer to the futon, pausing long enough to recheck the boy’s temperature. The kid felt much warmer than he had before and Yamazaki frowned. He moved to the door and carried one of the water jugs over to the brazier. Sitting on a small table next to the brazier was a kettle and a large basin. Yamazaki filled them both with water, set the kettle on the brazier to heat, and carried the basin over to the futon.

Kneeling next to the child, he unfastened a large pouch from his belt and rolled it out, exposing the contents within; a tightly wound ball of cloth strips, a selection of suturing needles with thread, and a flat packet of bandages he had wrapped in paper. From an inner pocket of the pouch, Yamazaki pulled out yet another thin box. Inside were his pre-made medicines, herbs, dried roots and flowers, leaves and powders. He sifted through them carefully, selecting the medicines he would need. After washing his hands with one of the cloth strips, he took a second strip and soaked it in the cold water from the basin. He wrung it out and then dabbed the child’s temples and neck before placing the cool cloth on his forehead in an effort to lower his temperature.

Katsu shivered and a faint whimper escaped her lips even though she tried to press them tightly together. Her eyes fluttered open, but she couldn’t focus. Something cold touched her again and she tried to move away from it but her body wouldn’t obey. She felt weighted down. Her eyelids felt like they weighed more than her whole body and she struggled to keep them open but failed. She wanted to open her eyes, to speak, to move, but she felt herself sinking into nothingness once again.

* * *

Souji found Kondo in the common room, deep in conversation with the sixth unit captain, Genzaburo Inoue. Both men looked up when Souji announced himself and entered the room.

“Souji! We were just talking about you,” Kondo said, beaming up at the young man. He motioned for Okita to join them, a twinkle in his eye.

“Oh? What were you saying about me, Kondo-san?” Souji asked as he sat down, working to keep his expression care-free. Typically, he didn’t like being talked about -good or bad- but it was different with Kondo.

“We were reminiscing like a couple of old women,” Inoue chuckled, winking at Kondo.

“We were remembering when you and Saito-kun had your first sparring match, Souji. And then, of course, we had to discuss how you’ve both grown as swordsmen.”

Souji looked back and forth between the two men before shrugging with feigned nonchalance. He plastered an easy-going smile on his face and turned to Kondo.

“Speaking of Hajime-kun …there’s been an incident, Kondo-san.”

“Oh? Has Saito-kun been injured?” Kondo’s smile vanished and he leaned forward, his full attention on Okita.

“No, no…he’s fine. I can’t say the same for the ronin we brought in, though.”

Kondo and Inoue exchanged a startled glance. Both men knew that all the Shinsengumi captains were known throughout Kyoto as talented swordsmen and warriors -especially Saito and Okita. It spoke volumes that these ronin chose to engage in any type of altercation with Saito. They were either complete fools, or they were new to the area. Inoue turned back to Souji with a slight frown.

“You said, ‘we’, Souji. I take it you were together for this…incident?”

“You caught that, huh?” Souji grinned and sat forward. “Actually, by the time I arrived on the scene, Hajime-kun had everything pretty well in hand.”

“And the miscreants are in custody?” Kondo asked.

“Hai, Kondo-san. They are being questioned now. Shimada-san and Nagakura-san are with Hajime-kun.”

Kondo nodded his approval but remained silent. Inoue looked thoughtfully at Okita.

“Souji, would you start from the beginning, please, and tell us what you know?”

“Well, it all started when Hajime-kun was late coming back from his patrol. I was starting to become concerned, Kondo-san. As you know, Hajime-kun is never late. I knew that the guard would be changing at the main gates, so I walked out there and talked to the men. I learned that the third unit had returned to the temple some time earlier.”

Kondo frowned and looked over to Inoue once again. Both men knew that is was highly unusual for Saito to be out without his men. When nobody spoke, Okita continued.

“I decided to go talk to Hajime-kun’s sub-captain. I wanted to know when he was last seen and all that. I did notice that I was being followed by Yamazaki -probably on orders from Hijikata-san. Honestly, Kondo-san, I was a little hurt. You would think Hijikata-san would show a little more faith in me.” A petulant frown - one that seemed at odds with the mischievous gleam in his eye- tugged at Souji’s lips. He noted Inoue’s narrowed eyes and quickly moved on.

“Anyway, I made it halfway to the temple before I heard a commotion. I knew right away it was Hajime-kun. I sent Yamazaki back to headquarters to get Shimada-san since he can fight and knows how to keep his mouth shut, and I followed the noise to Hajime-kun. I found him a couple of blocks over. By the time I got there, he had already taken care of the ronin. It turns out they had attacked a kid for his swords and Hajime-kun stepped in.”

“A child?” Kondo asked, his expressive eyes troubled. “Was the child injured?”

“He was unconscious when I got there, but breathing. Hajime-kun had given him a once-over; thought the kid would be okay in time, but he had a pretty bad cut on the shoulder and some other injury. When Yamazaki finally showed up, we turned the kid over to him. The men that attacked Hajime-kun will need some attention, too; all their sword arms are broken,” Souji added drily. “Hajime-kun overheard part of their conversation, too, Kondo-san. They may be extremists from Chōshu. That’s what Hajime-kun is trying to determine now.”

“I see. So, to sum up…Saito-kun and Nagakura-kun, with Shimada-kun’s help- are interrogating possible _sonnō jōi_ rebels who attacked a child. That child is now in Yamazaki-kun’s care.”

“Correct, Kondo-san.”

“The ronin are at Maekawa? And the child is where? Here at headquarters?”

“Hai, Kondo-san.”

Kondo sat back with his eyes closed, his expression uncharacteristically dark. He considered all that he had heard and what each thing might implicate. Souji and Inoue waited patiently for further instructions. Finally, Kondo opened his eyes and nodded, a decision made.

“We will have to wait for Saito-kun before calling a meeting. Until then, I want to see this child. Do we know anything about him?”

“Ie. He’s young…looks to be about ten, maybe eleven. Filthy little thing, too. He’s probably a street urchin.”

“Well, let’s go find out,” Kondo said, shaking his head with a sigh. He hated the thought of a child without a home, but the boy wouldn’t be able to stay at headquarters once he was well enough to leave. Still, Kondo would do what he could for the boy. He smiled up at Souji, remembering the first time he had seen the first unit captain. ‘And just look how he turned out,’ Kondo thought. Aloud, he said, “Souji, tell me what you can about these ronin while we walk. Gen-san, you come too.”

“Yes, sir!” both men replied, following their commander out of the room.

* * *

Katsu stood at the edge of a cliff and reached out over the chasm. A hand grasped hers from within the darkness below and she tried desperately to hold on. Her feet began to slide toward the ledge and she dug in her heels, pulling back with all her might.

From the depths of the abyss, a light began to expand. It came into existence slowly, dancing in and out of the shadows until began to evolve. The light took form and became a face.

 ‘Koteru…brother!’

Katsu tried to pull her brother up and out of the terrible darkness but she had no strength. Coldness clung to her, its greedy fingers unsatisfied. It pulled her toward the void; toward Koteru. Katsu looked down at her brother. His face was contorted with fear -with agony- with despair. The icy hand of death clung tightly to her brother. He screamed in terror and his grip on Katsu’s hand began to loosen.

Koteru’s fingers slowly began to slip from her grasp and Katsu took a step forward. Her brother’s screams filled her ears and encompassed her mind. Nothing else existed but the sounds of her brother’s anguish.

Katsu stood at the edge of a cliff and looked down into the chasm. Her hands were empty. Koteru was gone and Katsu was alone. She dropped to her knees and tears fell and rolled down her cheeks. Suddenly a hand shoved her from behind. Katsu screamed as she fell forward into the pitch black death.

Yamazaki stood next to the brazier, steeping dried honeysuckle blossoms and crushed wormwood root in a cup of hot water. The flora-infused drink would help to reduce both the child’s pain and his fever. Yamazaki had just turned to add medicines to the kettle sitting atop the brazier when a short, sharp cry from the child stilled his movements. He turned his head to view the boy and found him thrashing on the futon. Yamazaki rushed to his side, intent on keeping the child from making his injuries worse.

Katsu felt hands grasping her upper arms firmly -holding her immobile- and she panicked. She kicked and bucked, but her movements were sluggish and ineffective. Had Konoguchi found her? Had he taken her back to the master? She tried over and over again to gain her freedom, twisting from one side to the other, but those hands held her firmly in place.

She heard a door slide open, followed by a loud exclamation and heavy footsteps. Something was placed beside her head with a thunk, and the odor wafting from it alerted her immediately to what it was…sake. She tensed and struggled even harder, her past experiences with sake driving her panic to new heights. Konoguchi was going to douse her with the alcohol! How had he found her so quickly? She couldn’t wrap her mind around what was happening.

Katsu couldn’t open her eyes, though she tried. Her lids fluttered but they felt so heavy. Her confusion and disorientation also added to her panicked state and she began to struggle anew against the hands that confined her. The smell of the sake fueled her attempts at freedom. Her body automatically remembered the burning pain of the alcohol from Konoguchi’s use of it.

Katsu expected to feel a jolt of pain, either from the sake being dumped over her fresh wounds, or from the hands that kept her pressed down. Surprisingly, the pain didn’t come. Instead, a low-pitched voice spoke quietly just above her. She couldn’t make out the words; her mind was still lost in a sea of murky confusion. However, there was one thing of which she was absolutely certain. This voice belonged to neither Konoguchi nor the master. This voice was almost hypnotic with its calm, steady thrum.

Katsu stopped fighting, though she remained tense and wary. The hands released her arms, and one of them moved back to raise and support her head. She felt a cup touch her lips and she reflexively pulled back, turning her head to the side. The voice spoke again, calm and coaxing, and the cup was pressed to her lips again. She took a tentative sip and then the cup was pulled away. The process was repeated again and again until the cup was emptied and then Katsu’s head was lowered back down.

She felt the light touch of a palm on her cheek and then on her forehead. When the hand was replaced with the shocking coldness of a damp cloth, her eyelids fluttered and she was finally able to hold them open. She took a moment to focus before looking up to the face hovering above hers. Light brown eyebrows furrowed over deep amethyst eyes. Katsu’s first instinct was to pull away; to protect herself. She assumed the man’s frown was one of anger or displeasure. It was an expression Katsu was all too familiar with…but as she studied him intently, she noticed the lack of cruel coldness that most of the master’s men held in their eyes. She wasn’t quite sure how to read this man’s eyes.

“Konbanwa.” He spoke in that same mellow voice she had heard earlier.

Instead of returning his greeting, Katsu clamped her lips together tightly. She kept a close eye on any movement he might make toward her and took in his appearance. He looked young -very young, compared to the men she was used to- but she knew that looks could also be deceiving. She herself looked years younger than her actual age. The purple-eyed man also had a slight build, very similar to that blue-eyed warrior from earlier. Katsu wondered for a moment what had become of the man who had rescued her, but she refocused on the man before her quickly. She couldn’t let herself be caught off-guard. He had a slender face, yet more rounded than blue-eyes and not quite as…hard. His shoulders were narrower, but still broad enough that Katsu could imagine the strength in them. His hands held her attention the longest. The fingers were long and almost delicate-looking, which surprised Katsu because she had felt the coarse, callused skin when they had pressed against her face. They were hard hands, but so far, they had caused no pain whatsoever.

The man’s fingers were currently pressed to Katsu’s wrist and his gaze became somewhat clouded as he concentrated on whatever it was he was doing. Katsu watched as he nodded to himself and placed her arm carefully over her stomach. He looked at her, his face drawing nearer as he searched her eyes.

Yamazaki pulled back, nodding to himself once again. The child’s eyes were dilated, which was normal. It had taken him a moment to be sure; the boy’s eyes were such a dark, near-black color that Yamazaki had a hard time distinguishing the iris from the pupils. He stood slowly so as not to startle the child, then moved back to the brazier. He poured hot water steeped with dandelion root and fresh willow leaves into the emptied basin and carried it back to the futon. The child was staring fixedly at the basin with wide eyes and near-tangible apprehension.

Yamazaki placed several cloth strips into the medicated water to soak and then turned to Harada, beckoning him forward. Harada, who had been standing quietly to one side, moved forward and knelt opposite Yamazaki, noting how the child’s eyes followed his every move. He gave the boy what he thought was a reassuring smile, hoping to ease some of his obvious anxiety. Surprisingly, it had a completely different effect. The child’s eyes narrowed and he glared up at Harada with undisguised suspicion.

Katsu eyed the second man in stony silence. He was much larger than the purple-eyed man to her left, which made her nervous. He was very tall -Katsu gauged he was probably a whole foot taller than she was- and well built. He wasn’t bulky like Konoguchi, but he was broad-shouldered. He had an unusual hair color, too, though Katsu couldn’t say much about that. It was brownish red and was tied into a ponytail at the man’s nape. His eyes were golden and reminded Katsu of the large predatory birds she remembered from childhood.

The man kept smiling down at her, which she found highly suspect. Konoguchi always smiled, too, and it never boded well for Katsu. She subconsciously moved to her left, away from the red-head. Her frown deepened as she stared up at him, not daring to look away for even a moment.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. She looked quickly to purple-eyes and then back to the red-head. “Where am I?”

Yamazaki looked over to Harada and waited to see if and how the captain would answer. However, Harada asked the child a question of his own.

“Isn’t it more polite to introduce yourself before asking something like that?”

Katsu looked startled and then petulant.

“Katsu,” she stated, finally, and waited expectantly. When nobody spoke immediately, she looked up at the golden-eyed man in frustration. “It’s your turn,” she reminded him, waiting to see if he would keep his word.

“Ah, but you only gave us half an introduction, didn’t you?” he said, instead.

Katsu stared at him in confusion. Was he stalling? Did he not plan on answering her question?

“No family name?” the red-head prompted.

Katsu’s gaze drifted from the larger man to the smaller one -the quiet one- before resting once more on the red-head. Did giving her last name really matter? She hadn’t used it in years, even before the master found her and took her away. She had hidden it away after her father died, along with her full first name. Now she was just Katsu…nothing else. As she debated with herself on what to do, the man’s smile slowly faded, and a spark of irritation began to show in his eyes. Coming to a decision, Katsu looked up at the ceiling and huffed out a sigh of resignation.

“Matsumori,” she said in a clipped tone.

“Now, was that really so difficult?” the man asked, his smile returning.

Katsu pressed her lips together and turned her face away. She didn’t trust the red-head’s smile at all, but it was still better than the glint of annoyance she had seen. Annoyance led to anger and anger led to punishment.

The purple-eyed man was watching her with an intense gaze. He was frowning again and Katsu wondered if he ever smiled like the red-head. Somehow, she doubted it. Still, she felt more at ease with his solemn expression that she did with ‘smiley’. As she watched, the younger man raised his eyes to the red-head.

“Kumicho?”

“Right. I did promise to give our names, didn’t I?”

Katsu gave a brief nod.

“Alright, since I’m a man of my word…I’m Sanosuke Harada and this,” he said, indicating purple-eyes, “is Susumu Yamazaki.”

“He called you ‘captain’,” Katsu pointed out.

“You’re right, he did. I’m the tenth unit captain of the Shinsengumi.”

“Shinsengumi?!” Katsu sat up before Yamazaki could stop her. She gasped in pain but quickly blocked it away. She looked from one man expectantly.

Neither man missed the expression that flitted across the child’s face. It wasn’t the usual look of fear or loathing the Shinsengumi members met with on a day-to-day basis; instead, Katsu’s eyes shone with relief and something else…hope?

Katsu’s eyes widened and she hurriedly reached inside her hakamashita. Yamazaki, unsure of her intentions, immediately grabbed her wrist and jerked her hand back into view. Rumpled papers fluttered from her fingertips and she let out a yelp of surprise. She stared up at Yamazaki, wondering if he would now cause the pain she had expected from the start.

“You must keep your hands where we can see them,” he explained unapologetically, releasing his grip.

Katsu bit her lip and gave a quick nod, her emotions rattled by the man’s abrupt actions. Her heart pounded against her ribcage as flashbacks of Konoguchi and the master assailed her. She peered back up at Yamazaki through lowered lashes and tried to assess his mood. He didn’t appear to be angry. In fact, he looked as calm as he had since she first saw him. She risked a quick peek at Harada and found that he had picked up the stack of papers she had dropped. He was flipping through them slowly.

“What is this? Where did you get these?” he asked without looking up.

Katsu hesitated, unsure of how much she should reveal. But the more she thought about it, the sillier she felt. Hadn’t she come this far searching for the Shinsengumi? She had grabbed the papers with the full intention of handing them over to the Shinsengumi. What was the point of holding back now? She took a shaky breath, glanced at Yamazaki once more, pulled her knees to her chest and began to tell her tale. To Harada and Yamazaki, it was a childish rendition, unfocused and simple, but they listened closely.

“I was trying to escape from the master…but I heard someone coming and hid. I went into this room with sword. They were my Papa’s…” She trailed off for a moment, lost in the memories that always sprung to her mind when she thought of her father. Realizing that she had stopped speaking, she squared her shoulders and resumed.

 “I don’t know where they are now.” She looked around the room and furrowed her brow.

“They are safe,” Yamazaki told her and her heart soared. She blinked several times, and organized her thoughts before continuing.

“I don’t know why the master had Papa’s swords or how he got them. I can’t figure that out…but it doesn’t matter. I took them. When I started to leave the room, I saw a bunch of papers on a desk so I stopped. I don’t know why…something just told me to do it,  so I did. I couldn’t understand most of the papers so I just grabbed some, but I saw that map and I thought it was probably important. I took it, too, so the master couldn’t have it. Then I ran away and came to look for the Shinsengumi.”

“You were looking for us?” Harada asked, finally lifting his eyes from the paper in his hand.

“The master always said the Shinsengumi was the enemy. I thought since the master was bad and you were trouble for him, you had to be good. So I came to find you.”

Katsu held Harada’s startled gaze for a moment before turning to examine Yamazaki. He was rubbing his temples, a grave expression on his face. She had left out how long she had been held captive, and she didn’t breathe a word about the punishments. It was too humiliating and, as much as she wanted to, she didn’t really trust these men. She didn’t want to give them any ideas. Harada handed the map to Yamazaki without a word. They exchanged troubled looks and then Yamazaki dropped his eyes to the map in his hand. Harada focused on Katsu.

“This ‘master’ you mentioned…what’s his name?”

Katsu closed her eyes and tried to bring the man’s name forward. She knew Konoguchi had called him by name. What was it?

“Yoshida!”

“And you were his prisoner?”

Katsu nodded.

“Why? Did you see or do something that you shouldn’t have?”

“Why?” Katsu repeated, gaping at Harada in disbelief. Could he not see why? Her hair made it obvious, so she instantly became suspicious. When Harada continued to look at her quizzically, Katsu pulled her long ponytail over her shoulder and waggled it at him.

“Your hair? What…?” Harada shook his head as he tried to understand.

“Because I’m tainted,” Katsu stressed, spitting the words out angrily and throwing her hands up in exasperation. The movement sent pain shooting through her shoulder. Yamazaki placed a restraining hand on her arm and looked to Harada.

“Harada-kumicho, I need to tend this wound.”

“Of course…what can I do to help?”

Harada really wanted to ask the kid more questions, but they would have to wait. That comment about being tainted…what the hell was that all about? What more did the kid know? Who was this Yoshida character? Harada rubbed the back of his neck in frustration.

“I can clean the wound without assistance,” Yamazaki assured him as he pushed the tattered remnant of Katsu’s sleeve out of his way.  “However, it will be easier for Matsumori if you can stabilize his arm when the stitching begins. Until then, he should be able to answer any other questions you might have.”

Harada was both amused at and impressed by the shinobi’s perceptiveness. He really didn’t miss much. The captain opened his mouth to resume his interrogation but stopped when Katsu turned away from him to glare at Yamazaki.

Katsu was not pleased at all. She didn’t want her wounds treated. She’d had enough treatment from Konoguchi. When Yamazaki pulled the basin of hot water closer to him, she decided to try and get out of the situation.

“My wounds are fine,” she stated firmly, sidling away from him.

Harada clamped a hand down on her good shoulder, halting her movement. Yamazaki gave her an unfathomable look before reaching into the basin for a cloth strip that had been soaking in the medicated water.

 “What’s that for?” Katsu asked, tensing her body.

Yamazaki followed the child’s gaze, which fell, not to the cloth in his hand but to the bowl of hot water beside him. At a loss to what the child meant, Yamazaki searched Katsu’s face for any hint of clarification.

“Are you going to pour that on me?”

“What?! Of course not!” Harada interrupted, releasing Katsu’s shoulder. “That stuff is scalding hot!”

Katsu ignored him and simply stared at Yamazaki, waiting for his response. She balled her hands into fists in her lap just in case she had to fight. She wasn’t going to make anything easy for him.

As an appalling thought dawned on him, Yamazaki’s face tightened in anger. He had noticed, of course, that the child had been severely mistreated. The burns and bruises that covered his arms and legs attested to that fact, but the idea that someone could pour blisteringly hot water…he couldn’t even complete the thought. It took all of his resolve to maintain his composure, but he managed it. An emotional outburst would do the child no good. Instead, he expelled a deep breath to quell his surging outrage. He lifted the cloth he was holding and showed it to Katsu.

“This cloth is what will be used to clean your wounds,” he explained in a calm voice. “The water is only used to soak the cloth.”

Katsu considered his words and studied his eyes carefully, searching for any sign of deception. Unable to discern anything untoward, she slowly moved back toward him. Yamazaki noticed that her eyes were moving constantly between him and the basin, but he could deal with that.

“There may be some stinging from the medication. I will work as carefully as I am able, but I must remove any opportunity for infection.”

Katsu nodded her understanding and watched as Yamazaki dipped the cloth back into the water before bringing it up to her shoulder. He pushed the torn sleeve out of the way once more and began to methodically swab the dirt and blood away from the large gash.

Katsu recoiled at the initial pressure she felt, but the pain she had expected didn’t come. There was a mild burning sensation, and when he moved the cloth along her torn skin, it hurt, but it was nothing compared to what she was used to under Konoguchi’s ministrations. She gradually let her body relax and turned her head to Harada.

 “He said you had more questions,” she prompted, jerking her head toward Yamazaki.

Harada moved closer to the head of the futon and crossed his legs. He took a minute to look the kid over -battered, bruised…filthy from head to toe… but there was a fire in the kid’s eyes that hadn’t been extinguished. Satisfied with that, Harada began.

“Katsu, right?” When he received an affirming nod, Harada continued. “This Yoshida character you mentioned…what can you tell me about him?”

“He’s the boss. He doesn’t like tainted blood. He hates the…bakufu? And he really hates the Shinsengumi.”

“Do you know his full name? What about his men? Anybody stand out as important?” Harada thought the name Yoshida sounded familiar, but he would need to check with Shinpachi. Shin always kept up with who was who when it came to power.

Katsu shook her head. “Konoguchi…” It came out as a whisper and Harada didn’t miss the slight tremor in the kid’s voice. For the first time, the kid seemed truly frightened. She stopped speaking and turned her face away, starting at the far wall.                                                                                                                                               

“Konoguchi, huh? So he’s Yoshida’s right-hand man?”

Katsu shrugged but kept her eyes fixed squarely on the wall in front of her. She clenched her fists so tightly that her jagged nails bit into the palms of her hands, but she didn’t notice. She hadn’t realized until that moment just how much she truly feared Konoguchi. She feared him even more than she feared the master, which seemed odd. The fear threatened to rise up and swallow her, but she fought to contain it.

Harada watched the kid struggle to master his emotions. The boy’s face had lost all its color and his jaw was set so tightly that Harada feared he might actually crack some teeth. He felt mildly relieved when Katsu suddenly turned his head back to Harada, his eyes boring into the captain’s with a fiery intensity.

“When the mast…when Yoshida was away, Konoguchi was the boss. “

Harada rested a large hand on Katsu’s head and ruffled his hair. For whatever reason, he was proud of the kid for overcoming his fear. Katsu blinked but resisted the urge to pull away. Harada smiled and seized the opportunity to ask another question.

“Is there anything you can tell me about these papers? This map?”

“No...I just…took them. I didn’t know what the other papers were, but I knew what the map was.” Katsu shrugged again.

Into the silence that followed, Yamazaki spoke up. “Kumicho, I’m ready to place the sutures.”

Katsu whipped her head around, her anxiety spiking once again. Harada moved around to the head of the futon, ready to hold the kid in place. Yamazaki took a few minutes to explain the process to Katsu. It had the effect he had hoped, and the child slowly relaxed. Just before he could begin the procedure, however, there was a voice at the door.

“Excuse me,” Inoue called out before sliding the door open.

He allowed Commander Kondo to enter the room first and then followed in behind him, leaving Okita to bring up the rear. Kondo took a couple of steps into the room, but when his eyes fell on the child, he stopped in his tracks.

“Seijuro….” he whispered, his face losing all color.

 


	4. Past and Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get discovered....both past and present.  
> Bonus: Little Kondo!  
> A BIG thank you to @hidetheremote over at Tumblr for the beta read and assisting with issssssuuuueeeesss!! :)
> 
> NOTE: Just a reminder....Nobody knowwwwws....the gender she is...Nobody knows her gender....

Several things happened at once following Kondo’s stunned —albeit quiet— exclamation. Souji, acutely aware of Kondo-san’s sudden pallor and faltering step, immediately moved forward with his fingers poised loosely over the hilt of his sword. Katsu saw the dangerous glint in the man’s narrowed green eyes and scrambled to her feet. Yamazaki followed suit and placed himself half-way between his commander and his patient, facing the child so as not to leave his back exposed to a potential threat.

Alarmed by the unexpected movement of the medic, Katsu staggered back. Harada saw the kid stumble and shot a hand out to prevent a fall. He unwittingly pressed his palm into the lacerations that crossed Katsu’s back and she clamped her lips together to keep from crying out. She willed herself to ignore the fire that screamed across her skin.

“You better take a seat, little boy,” Souji snarled, taking another step forward.

He frightened Katsu, but she knew better than to let her fear show. She glared at him, deciding not to correct his error about her gender —why make him even angrier— and then glanced at Yamazaki.

“Matsumori-kun, sit down,” he said in that quiet voice; a voice that, nonetheless, brooked no argument.

Katsu complied, but she edged away from the red-head before resuming her seat. She could still feel the imprint of his hand where it had made contact with her back, and she wanted to make sure he couldn’t reach her to do it again.

Inoue watched the drama unfold with a rueful eye. He had heard tales from Kondo about a man named Seijuro Matsumori and presumed that this was his child. But the boy had a wild, fearful look about him that made Inoue wary. Would the child’s fear cause him to do something rash?

Kondo remained silent, simply staring at the child in wonder. The boy was the spitting image of Seijuro, a man Kondo had looked to as a mentor and friend many years prior. He hadn’t seen or heard from Seijuro in years, but there was absolutely no doubt that this was his child.

Kondo walked forward and crouched beside the futon, taking in the child’s condition. His clothes were filthy and torn, and were several sizes too big. Dirt and bruises blended together along his jawline and down the one bare arm. The gash on his shoulder was deep and oozing blood, though it appeared to have been cleaned. Kondo frowned and turned to the shinobi-medic.

“What can you tell me about his condition, Yamazaki-kun?”

Yamazaki took a moment to contemplate what he knew thus far. He glanced down at Katsu before answering.

“I haven’t completed my exam, Commander. The cut to the shoulder is severe and requires sutures. There is a possible injury to the abdomen that I haven’t evaluated. Multiple bruises and burns, though I do not know the extent of them at this time.”

“Can you continue while we speak with the boy, or would it be better to wait until you’ve finished?”

Yamazaki took a moment to seriously consider what was being asked. He glanced down at Katsu before answering.

“I can work while you speak, Commander, but the procedure will be painful for the child. The boy’s tolerance will dictate his ability to respond to your questions.”

Kondo rubbed his chin, but shook his head and smiled down at the boy. He needed no more time to make his decision and rose to his feet. Katsu watched him in silence, curious but not willing to speak among so many.

“Questions can wait.  Yamazaki, will you need assistance?”

“Hai. I will need someone to stabilize the boy’s arm while I close the wound.”

“I’ve offered to do that, Kondo-san, unless you need me elsewhere?” Harada piped up.

“No, no…stay until you’re no longer needed and then come to the common room and report.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Yamazaki, I will send Shimada to you once his is free,” Kondo added, turning toward the door.

“Thank you, Commander,” Yamazaki replied with a bow.

Indicating that it was time to leave, Kondo ushered Souji and Inoue out onto the walkway, sliding the door shut behind him. He closed his eyes and sighed, memories of his childhood friend at the forefront of his mind.

“Kondo-san?” Souji spoke into the stillness, his mouth pulled into a slight frown.

“Hmm? Oh! Sorry about that,” he said with a chuckle. “No need to worry, Souji, I was just lost in thought.” He clapped a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and smiled. 

Once the door closed behind Kondo, Yamazaki knelt down and began re-cleaning Katsu’s shoulder while instructing Harada on how best to stabilize the arm without getting in his way. Harada listened attentively and moved in closer, grasping Katsu’s arm just above the elbow with one hand and just above the gash with the other. Yamazaki finished his task and picked up the needle he had been soaking in medicated water.

“This will be painful for you, Matsumori. I will work as quickly as I can. Try not to move.”

Katsu tensed at his words and nodded once, her eyes taking on a glazed look as she readied herself for what was to come. Yamazaki glanced at Harada, who looked just as on edge as the child. With a quick nod to the captain, he began the procedure. Katsu flinched as the needle broke skin, but she balled her hands into fists and sat perfectly still. Her eyes stung, and she blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay. She watched the medic work, his hands moving swiftly and surely.

After several long minutes, Yamazaki set the needle aside, and both Katsu and Harada expelled a relived breath. Yamazaki blotted the shoulder gently and inspected his finished work before sitting back on his heels. He observed Katsu in silence for several seconds before voicing his thoughts.

“Harada-kumicho, before I continue with my examination, Matsumori will need a small break.”

Harada ruffled Katsu’s hair as he rose to his feet, causing her to recoil. Harada noted the flinch but was glad to see Katsu didn’t try to move away from him.

“You did good, kid.”

Harada chuckled when Katsu widened her eyes and then quickly turned away with a small frown. He turned to Yamazaki and continued.

“I’ll go grab those fresh clothes. I never got around to that. Do you need anything else?”

“A small bowl of broth would be beneficial.”

“Sure. I’ll be back soon, then.” Harada smiled again, winked at Katsu -whose frown deepened- and left.

Yamazaki felt Katsu’s eyes following his every move as he cleaned up. When the last of his supplies were either tucked back into one of his pouches or set aside for washing, he sat down in front of her with a serious expression.

“Matsumori-kun, when Harada-kumicho returns, you will eat and then you will bathe. Before that, however, I would like to examine your back.”

Katsu stiffened and eyed him warily.

“What for?” she asked, her tone and expression petulant.

“When Harada-kumicho prevented your fall earlier, his touch appeared to cause you great discomfort. I would like to know why.”

Katsu looked down at her hands with a furrowed brow. How had he noticed that? She thought she had hidden it pretty well. She glanced up at him, opened her mouth to speak and then closed it again. What choice did she have? Could she convince him that she was fine? What were his true intentions? She balled her hands into fists, her frustration building as she tried to decide on what to do.

Yamazaki studied Katsu and struggled with his own indecision. It was obvious that the boy was hesitant about receiving treatment. If his arms and face were any indication, Yamazaki could understand such wariness. However, the possibility of infection was too high, and the medic felt that it would be in Katsu’s own best interest to force the issue. They stared at one another in silence, neither backing down from the contest of wills. Only the sound of the shoji sliding open broke the draw. Shimada entered the room carrying a small bundle of clothing in one hand and a bowl of broth in the other.  He greeted Yamazaki with a brief nod of his head.

“Kondo-san has called the meeting. Harada sent me to assist you and gave me these?” He passed the items to Yamazaki.

Katsu stared up at the newcomer in trepidation. He was _huge_ ; towering over everyone in the room and definitely outweighing them by a good number of pounds. Shimada saw the look of terror in the kid’s eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, letting out an embarrassed chuckle.

“I imagine I’m pretty scary to look at, ne?” he asked.

Katsu looked up at him with a mix of surprise and suspicion. She subconsciously drew herself in, pulling her knees up to her chest as she craned her neck upward.

“Matsumori-kun,” Yamazaki interrupted.

He handed the bowl of broth to her. She took it with both hands and stared down at its contents without tasting. She peeked back up at the larger man, ensuring that he hadn’t moved.

“This is Shimada, a...friend. He will not harm you.” He paused and then added, “Eat. The food will do you more good if it is still warm.”

Katsu brought the bowl closer and sniffed it before taking a tentative sip. It was warm, but not hot. She had never tasted anything like it. Her usual meal consisted of either rice or cold, watery broth. This...was different. She brought the bowl to her lips again and upturned it, taking in as much as possible with each gulp. She felt a hand on her wrist, pulling the bowl downward. The half-whine, half-growl that escaped her surprised both Yamazaki and herself, and she flushed with embarrassment before putting the bowl on the floor and shoving it away, some of its contents spilling onto the floor.

“You must slow down,” Yamazaki explained, nudging the bowl closer. “Eating too quickly will upset your stomach, especially if you have not had food in some time.”

Katsu tried to ignore the bowl, still upset by her humiliating reaction, but the smell —and her empty stomach— compelled her to try again...more slowly this time. While she sipped the broth, Yamazaki spoke in quiet tones to Shimada, filling him in on what he had learned thus far and what he planned next. Each time Katsu’s hunger caused her to speed up, Yamazaki would reach out and touch her wrist as a reminder. She finally emptied the dish and set it before the medic. Yamazaki stood and Shimada followed suit. He looked to the smaller man with questioning eyes and was given a tight smile and a nod in return.

“Matsumori-kun, I will assist you with your bath now.”

Katsu rose to her feet, but she kept her eyes on Shimada, who was standing next to the door. She wasn’t sure why two people were needed for the task, but remained silent. After all, Matsuda had sometimes stayed when Konoguchi cleaned her wounds. But, when the giant of a man —Shimada?— turned and exited the room, Katsu breathed a sigh of relief.

Yamazaki propelled Katsu toward the brazier while Shimada remained outside and took up a guard position. Inside the small room, Yamazaki laid the bundle of clothing down and turned to test the water that remained in the pot on the stove.

“I’m afraid your clothing is most likely unsalvageable. When you remove them, lay them aside. The clean clothing will by yours and we will not require that you give them back.”

Katsu stood staring at the large brazier. She had never seen it’s like. Yamazaki turned to face her, one brow raised when he noted the child hadn’t moved. As he moved the pot from the brazier, he instructed Katsu to strip.

“I want to examine your back before we begin,” he said over his shoulder.

Katsu stepped over to the pot of water and placed a finger down into its depths.

“It’s warm!” she said, submerging her whole hand.

“Too warm?” Yamazaki asked, placing his own hand in to check the temperature. It felt fine to him, but if the boy was sensitive to heat, it might be too much for him.

“No, it’s...fine.”

Katsu was surprised by the heat. Heated water! She grinned suddenly and hastily reached down to untie her hakama. The injury to her shoulder made the movement difficult, but she was determined to wash before the water cooled. By the time she loosened the last tie, her hands were shaking with the effort, but she completed the task. The hakama dropped to her feet and she kicked them aside to begin the arduous work of untying the hakamashita that hung down just past her knees.

Yamazaki moved to assist Katsu, but she stepped back when he reached for her shirt. He paused and then let the issue go. He knelt instead, and probed gently at the burns that were now visible on Katsu’s bared legs. He had to give the boy credit; he didn’t so much as flinch, though it was obvious the wounds were not very old. Thankfully, they did not look too bad...considering. He sighed. He would need to treat these before they _did_ become infected. He  turned and opened the pouch at his side, selected two of the powders he had ground up just the day before, and dumped both directly into the pot of water. When he turned back to face Katsu once more, the hakamashita dropped to the floor. Yamazaki noticed two things simultaneously; the wounds that covered Katsu’s abdomen and breast were severe; and Katsu was unmistakeably female.

Katsu looked at him questioningly when he blinked and then turned back to the brazier. She waited to see if he planned to pour the water over her, or if she would be allowed to clean herself. When he turned back to face her once again, his face was blank and his eyes bored into hers.

“I will have to tend to those wounds. But first, I must report my findings to the Commander.” He paused, considering his words. He was confused by the girl’s complete lack of embarrassment at standing completely nude before him. _He_ was embarrassed, though he refused to show it. After all, he was a medic and she _did_ need his services. He walked around her slowly, noting the different areas that would need medical attention. When he got to her back, he sucked in a breath involuntarily. Katsu flinched and started to turn, but his voice stopped her.

“This...was Yoshida’s work?”

“...and Konoguchi’s.”

Yamazaki reached out to follow one of the lacerations with his hand, but let it drop. He peered closer, noting that some of the deeper cuts were becoming infected. He tightened his jaw, anger filling him at the thought of grown men doing something so...so unthinkable...to a child. ‘No, not a child,’ Yamazaki reminded himself, silently. She looked young, but her build said otherwise. She had to be at least mid-way through her teens.

“What is your age?”

She looked over her shoulder at him, wariness creeping into her eyes.

“Why?”

“I had assumed you were...younger; it is obvious now that you are not a child.” He paused again. He wasn’t really certain how he should proceed. Kondo-kyokuchō would want as much information as could be gathered, but would he want Yamazaki to complete his ministrations when he discovered that Matsumori was female? Another thought came to mind. The commander had called Matsumori by another name. That is something Yamazaki wanted to get cleared up, too.

“Who is Seijuro?” he asked instead.

Katsu started to turn to face the medic, but his hand stayed her. She looked over her shoulder again, not understanding his motives at all, but she saw no point in refusing to answer his questions. He was helping her, after all, and had not harmed her in any way...yet.

“Seijuro was my papa’s name.”

“Was?”

“He’s dead,” she clarified woodenly.

“...and your age, Matsumori-kun?”

“Fifteen.”

Yamazaki quirked a brow at that. He was surprised, but now that he had seen her, it was possible. He released her shoulder and turned to the door.

“I must report this information to the commander. Shimada will be right outside the door. Please wait until I return and do not attempt to leave this room.”

Katsu kept her back to him, but nodded her head. With that, Yamazaki slid the shoji open and stepped out to the engawa.

* * *

Heisuke watched all the traffic moving in and out of the room only three doors down from Chizuru’s. First, Kondo-san, Gen-san and Souji went in, and Heisuke was so tempted to dash down there to listen in on the conversation. Only fear of retribution from Gen-san —and maybe Souji— kept him in his place. Perhaps if he hadn’t so recently been yelled for the messy state of his quarters...Gen-san was a stickler for cleanliness.

Soon after Kondo and the others left, Harada came by to get water from the well. Heisuke really wanted to ask him about the kid, but he was stopped by the simple raising of Harada’s hand.

“No time right now, squirt. I promise to fill you in later.”

Heisuke slouched back against the wall and heaved a glum sigh. He watched Harada head back toward the kid’s room, pausing long enough to grab something from the storage room next door.

“Heisuke-kun?”

Heisuke jolted forward, nearly falling off the engawa.

“Chizuru! When did you wake up?” He rose to his feet and moved closer to her door.

“Um...well...I haven’t actually been asleep yet.”

Crap! Had she heard anything she shouldn’t have? Had they said anything that needed to be kept secret? He couldn’t remember.

“Heisuke-kun, is everything okay?”

“Huh? Of course it is! Why do you ask?”

“You sounded a little...unhappy just now. Can I help?”

Heisuke flopped down next to the door and ran his hand through his bangs. He was _very_ glad that Chizuru couldn’t see him. He felt the tell-tale heat rising in his cheeks, and he didn’t want her to know how just hearing her voice affected him. He really liked Chizuru —she was nice, sweet, helpful...and she didn’t make him feel like he was making bad decisions all the time. Plus, she was really cute. Her eyes were so big and expressive, and her smile was so genuine, and....

“Heisuke-kun?” she called again, breaking into his thoughts.

“Oh! Sorry about that, Chizuru. Kondo-san is going to call a meeting soon and I wanted to go but....”

“...Oh. But you have to stay and guard me...”

“NO! I mean, yes, but that isn’t...I didn’t mean that...I don’t mind...” He dropped his head into his hands and grimaced.

“Do...you think they would want refreshments?” Chizuru called.

Heisuke raised his head as a grin pulled at his lips.

“Yeah! That’s a great idea, Chizuru! We can...Oh...” He faltered to stop. Should he let her out of her room? But...Hijikata-san and Sannan-san weren’t here to say no, so maybe it would be okay? He scratched the back of his neck as he considered the options, and finally decided. Surely, Kondo-san and the others would appreciate some tea! Scrambling to his feet, he slid open the door —causing Chizuru to squeak in surprise— and announced that they would be going to the kitchen.

* * *

Kondo sat with his head bowed, his thoughts on the child only a few doors down. He had to be Seijuro’s child; there was no other explanation. Seijuro Matsumori —he was a man Kondo had revered, once upon a time.

In his youth —before he had become Isami Kondo— he had been a simple farmer’s third-born son. Very little was expected of him; he would simply follow in the footsteps of his father and brothers. But Katsugoro had a dream. Like the heroes of his favorite stories, Katsugoro wanted to be a great samurai. At first, the townspeople humored him; why dash the hopes of a child? But as he grew older, many of those people began to ridicule him.

But Katsugoro wasn’t so easily discouraged. He had always believed that his dream was attainable with a bit of hard work and lots of determination. Each day, after his chores were completed, Katsugoro would head to a small clearing in the woods behind his family’s farm. He would go there to practice his swordsmanship and the skills he picked up from watching the older boys at the dojos in the area.

It was during one of these sessions that Katsugoro first met Seijuro Matsumori. What he was doing out in the woods, Katsugoro didn’t know and never thought to ask. He was busy practicing when a noise behind him sent him spinning on his heel, coming face to face with a stranger who held his hands up in mock surrender.

Katsugoro lowered the stick he was using for practice and started at the man, open-mouthed. The stranger’s hair, nearly white in color, was pulled into a ponytail high atop his head. It was long, and cascaded down his back to his waist. He had the blackest eyes Katsugoro had ever seen, so dark that they seemed to suck in the light and extinguish it. On his hip was a daisho —true samurai swords! If not for the easy-going smile and the slight twinkle in the stranger’s eyes, Katsugoro might have been frightened. Instead, he gave a quick bow and sheepish grin of his own.

“Sumimasen! I didn’t know anyone was out here. You startled me,” he told the stranger.

“Ah, that explains it. This place is a bit off the beaten path, as they say.”

“Are you a...samurai?”

“Aa! Seijuro Matsumori, sixth generation samurai, at your service. And you are?”

“Kat! Well, Katsugoro...Miyagawa. I’m going to be a first generation samurai.”

“Oh ho ho! Is that so?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Hmm...I see.” Seijuro rubbed his chin and then nodded toward Katsugoro’s  ‘sword’. “You’re pretty good with that. You practice quite a bit, I would think.”

It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. But Katsugoro responded anyway, quite proud of his training.

“Yes, sir, every day! Sometimes I spar with my brothers, but mostly I come here and practice by myself.”

“And what are you practicing so diligently for?”

Katsugoro’s smile slipped for a moment, but the he stood up straight and threw his shoulders back.

“I said it before....I’m going to become a samurai someday.”

Seijuro raised a brow and studied the young man in silence for several long seconds before responding.

“I don’t doubt that one bit, Katsugoro Miyagawa.”

“Kondo-san?” a voice called, pulling the commander back from his reverie.

“Ah...I did it again, didn’t I?” he asked with a self-conscious grin. “Did I miss something you said, Souji?”

“Just asked what you were thinking about,” Souji said, settling down next to Kondo.

“I was just remembering an old friend...”

“That ‘Seijuro’ you mentioned earlier?”

“Yes. He was a brilliant man, both with a sword and with his mind. He was...fascinating to watch. You would have liked him, Souji,” Kondo said, adding with a grin, “He had the same penchant for trouble as you.”

“Kondo-san! Trouble?” Souji gave a small laugh and then turned serious again. “You think the kid is this Seijuro’s?”

“He must be. There is no other explanation...the same hair, the same eyes. It’s uncanny.”

The two men fell silent and watched as Inoue took his seat to Kondo’s right. A moment later, the shoji slid open, and Nagakura entered the room, followed by Saito and Harada.

“Kondo-san, we have some information,” Nagakura announced, settling into his usual spot. “We ran into Sano here on the way over and he sent Shimada to help Yamazaki.”

“Good, good. I assume Heisuke is with Yukimura-kun?” Kondo asked, looking around at his captains.

“Yes, sir.”

“Then why don’t you tell us what you found out?”

“Saito, you want to tell us how it started?” Nagakura asked.

“Aa.”

Saito explained briefly why he and his unit were late returning to Mibu before going into greater detail about hearing the ronin and finding them attacking the child. He then looked to Nagakura to give details about the interrogation.

“Five ronin, all from Chōshu,” Nagakura began, sitting forward. “They were quick to speak...only had to tickle a couple of ribs to start them singing.”

Before he could say more, a quiet “Sumimasen” was called out from beyond the door. Kondo nodded to Harada, who was closest to the shoji, and the captain moved to admit the medic.

“Yamazaki-kun!” Kondo called as the young man entered and kneeled beside him.

“Kyokuchō, pardon my interruption.”

“You have something to report?” Kondo asked as he searched the young man’s face.

“Hai. Matsumori-kun has severe injuries that need immediate attention; there is some infection. Also, Matsumori-kun...is a female.”

“A g-girl?” Kondo’s eyes widened and he surged to his feet.

“Hai.”                                                                                                        

“And you only noticed this now?” Souji put in. “What kind of medic misses that?”

“Souji!” Kondo scolded mildly before turning back to Yamazaki. “And...you believe it prudent to care for her injuries, even knowing she is...female?” Kondo asked, a slight frown on his face.

“Hai, Kyokuchō. I believe without immediate attention, her wounds could become even more infected. They are....severe. I had not noticed her gender before because I had only treated her shoulder,” he added, earning a snicker from Souji. “And...you believe it prudent to care for her injuries, even knowing she is...female?” Kondo asked, a slight frown on his face.

“Hai, kyokuchō. I believe without immediate attention, her wounds could become even more infected. They are....severe.”

A rare look of anger crossed the commander’s face as he reseated himself and considered the options. With Yukimura-sensei absent, they had no doctor who would be willing to look after the child —Seijuro’s child. He looked back to Yamazaki, who was waiting for instruction.

“Yamazaki-kun, what is the child’s name? Her age?”

“She claims to be fifteen years old, sir. I believe that to be true, or at least very close to accurate. She named herself ‘Katsu’.”

“Katsu?!”

“Is that a name you recognize, Isami-san?” Gen asked.

“Y-yes...possibly. Seijuro’s youngest child was a girl. Katsumi was her name. I suppose she shortened it, as I did.”

The captains exchanged glances around the room, waiting for Kondo to continue.

“I want to speak to her. But first, I must hear Nagakura-kun’s report. Yamazaki-kun, do as you see fit for her health. No one else is to attend to her wounds. Is that understood?”

“Hai!”

“Very well. I will be there momentarily.”

Yamazaki excused himself and left the room as Nagakura began to speak once again.


	5. Katsu-kun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katsu meets Katsu....and other dramatic stuff.

When Yamazaki left the room, Katsu cast a furtive glance behind her and, seeing that she was truly alone, allowed herself a moment to relax. So much had happened in such a short span of time! She was exhausted to the point of collapse. She sank into seiza and closed her eyes. She could feel the floor mats pressing into her knees, so much softer than the plain boards she had slept on for years. Everything about this place was softer, even the people. It was very confusing. It made keeping her defenses up difficult, but she _wanted_ to trust someone. Being on guard all the time was so tiring.

She had learned quickly that smiles weren’t always kind and people weren’t always what they seemed. The first time she saw the master — _Yoshida,_ Katsu mentally corrected— she had thought he would be...nice. But that hadn’t been the truth. He was _evil_ , and the men who worked for him were cruel. But these men —the Shinsengumi— were Yoshida’s enemy, which meant they had to be good people, right? She had to believe that.  She had to trust _someone_ and, so far, these men had not changed their colors. It hadn’t taken Yoshida long to reveal who he really was.

She looked at her hands, clenched into fists on her lap. She couldn’t go on without trusting at least one person. She needed to believe that these people could help her — _would_ help her. Taking a deep breath, she made a decision. She would trust the doctor, Yamazaki. The others, she would figure out as she could —if she was even around long enough to get to know them.

Katsu climbed slowly back to her feet and glanced toward the door again before she turned her attention to the jug of water sitting next to the brazier. She inched forward and dipped her fingers into the water again. She nearly cried out in dismay when she noted that the water was cooling. She stared at the brazier, remembering how Yamazaki had set the water on top to heat it. She bit her lip and looked toward the door again. Should she move it? Would it anger him if she didn’t remain where he had left her? He had told her to wait, but he hadn’t necessarily said not to _move_. And she really wanted to use _warm_ water.

She clenched her jaw and straightened her spine. She would trust him. He had said he wouldn’t harm her, so she would trust that. Taking a calming breath, she lifted the jug —much heavier than she expected— and placed it back on the brazier before scuttling back to the center of the room, making sure to stand in the same spot she’d been in before —just in case.

Her mind raced with questions. Could she convince the Shinsengumi to help her? And what exactly was she hoping they would do? She wanted to make Yoshida pay for what he had done, but she was afraid. Would these men be willing to find him? What could she offer to ensure they would? What would she do when she came face to face with him —or Konoguchi— again? She closed her eyes and trembled slightly. She didn’t want to remember them right now.

Instead, she considered the men she had met so far —these Shinsengumi warriors. There was the man who knew her papa —Kondo. Had they been friends? Enemies? Just acquaintances? He had kind eyes. It was the one thing she noticed during their brief encounter. They had reminded her of her papa. Could he be trusted?

The doctor, Yamazaki; he was very serious, very controlled. And he hadn’t hurt her. He seemed to be making a large effort _not_ to hurt her. Plus, he told her exactly what he was going to do _before_ he did anything. That was different, and she liked it. She liked his calmness.

 And then there was the red-head, Harada-kumicho. He _seemed_ nice, but he was always smiling, always _trying_ to make her trust him. Usually, someone trying that hard had a reason, and it was never a good one. But maybe she wasn’t giving him a proper chance. Yamazaki-sensei seemed to trust him. She would decide how she felt about _him_ later.

She hadn’t gotten a handle on the other men she’d seen yet, though the green-eyed man seemed to be the most dangerous. Katsu had already decided to keep her distance from him and Harada-kumicho, just in case. Katsu shook her head. It was all too complicated for her. She sighed, and sat down on the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest while she waited. What was going to happen to her? Had she left one prison for another? No...she couldn’t believe that. These people were Yoshida’s enemy, and therefore her friends. Or at least...they were the good people. She _had_ to believe that. She laid her cheek on her knees and closed her eyes. At the moment, she just didn’t care. She was tired...just so tired.

* * *

Chizuru was just sitting up when Heisuke burst into the room. She squeaked in surprise and scrambled to pull a thin blanket up to her ears.

“Heisuke-kun!” she cried out, and he stopped in his tracks.

“Ah! Sorry, Chizuru!” he said, whirling around to face the door. “I thought you’d be dressed. I mean...you’re dressed. I thought you would be _more_ dressed...ah...dressed in day clothes...”

He gave up trying to explain and hung his head with a sigh. He wanted to sink into the floorboards. Of course she wouldn’t be dressed. It was late and she would have been in bed, even if she wasn’t asleep. How stupid could he be?

“Heisuke-kun?” Chizuru called from behind. “Um...if you give me a few minutes, it...won’t take me long to get ready.”

“Huh? Oh, right! I’ll just wait out here, then.”

He bolted from the room and slid the door shut with a snap. Expelling a breath, he rubbed the back of his neck and sat down on the edge of the engawa. Chizuru...she wasn’t like any other girl Heisuke had ever met. She wasn’t like any person he’d ever met. And though he didn’t know that many girls, he was subjected to them —a lot— because of his association with Sano-san and Shinpat-san.

He glanced up as the sound of quiet conversation drifted across the courtyard. He couldn’t make out what was being said, but he recognized Shinpat-san’s voice immediately. Squinting into the darkness, he spotted three shapes walking swiftly toward the common room.  He sat up and strained his ears, but the men stopped talking once they reached the buildings.

Nagakura, Saito and Shimada stepped up onto the walkway just as Harada exited the kitchen with both hands full. The four men paused to talk, and Heisuke watched in sulky silence as Harada handed the bowl he was holding —along with a bundle of cloth— to Shimada. When the men separated, Harada followed Saito and Nagakura; Shimada moved to the room with the kid. Heisuke was so intent on watching them, that when Chizuru slid open the door behind him, he nearly yelped. He leapt to his feet and cast a quick glance down the walkway to ensure the area was now empty.

“I’m ready now,” Chizuru told him brightly, ignoring his small jump.

“Ah, great! Let’s hurry, okay?” he said, grabbing her hand and rushing toward the kitchen.

“But I didn’t shut my door!” Chizuru protested weakly, allowing herself to be pulled along.

Heisuke didn’t respond, instead placing a finger to his lips as he propelled her in front of him. When they arrived at the kitchen, Heisuke bustled them inside, slid the door shut with a snap, and collapsed against it.

“Heisuke-kun?”

Heisuke looked up as he tried to catch his breath. Chizuru was fidgeting, her eyes darting around the room before coming back to meet his.

“Sorry about that, Chizuru! I just wanted to make sure we didn’t meet any...uhm...rank and file soldiers, ya know? It’s easier to not have to explain things and all that.”

Chizuru didn’t look convinced so Heisuke tried a different tactic. He walked over to a cabinet and began to pull out items for making tea while he continued to speak.

“You won’t get in trouble, if that’s what you’re worried about. I mean...Hijikata-san isn’t even here!” Seeing the look on Chizuru’s face, he hurried on. “And, as long as you’re with a captain, you’re going by the rules, anyway, remember? Besides, Kondo-san was really happy that you joined us for dinner the past couple of nights, right? I mean, he wasn’t upset or anything...Gen-san either! Right?”

He did have a point, Chizuru conceded at last. She smiled at him and moved to help him sort the ingredients.

“Do you think we should make snacks as well?” she asked him.

“Nah, not this late. Just the tea will do.”

They spent the rest of the time working in silence, an occurrence that was very unusual for Heisuke, in Chizuru’s opinion. She wondered why he kept glancing toward the door, since it was his idea to be here, but she decided to let him worry about it. He had told her everything was fine, and she just had to believe him. She would make the tea, serve it, and go back to bed. There was nothing more that she could do.

When the tea was ready, she placed everything onto two trays —one for herself, and one for Heisuke— and turned toward the door.

“It’s ready, Heisuke-kun!”

“Right! Let me just make sure the way is clear, okay?”

He moved to the shoji and cracked it open, just in time to see Yamazaki stop in front of the room next door, where Shimada now stood, waiting. Yamazaki met his gaze for a brief moment, and then Heisuke snapped the door shut and jumped back a step, nearly knocking the tray from Chizuru’s hands.

“Ah! We’d better wait a minute, Chizuru! Sorry about that! Here, let me help.”

He took the tray from her and set it on the table, then went back to the door and peeked out. Yamazaki was no longer in sight, and Shimada was moving swiftly away, into the shadows of the courtyard. Heaving a sigh of relief, Heisuke turned and smiled sheepishly at Chizuru.

“Okay, it was a false alarm. Let’s go! But...let’s hurry, just in case!”

He picked up the tray and waited for Chizuru to open the door. They slipped outside and Heisuke led them quickly toward the common room, hoping that he hadn’t just made a big mistake.

* * *

Yamazaki left the captains’ meeting and moved swiftly toward the room where Shimada still stood guard over Matsumori. He mentally listed and prioritized the tasks he needed to complete, starting with treatment for the infected wounds he saw covering the girl’s body. He clenched his jaw as the thought of those injuries sent a wave of anger crashing over him once again.

He slowed his step as he rounded a corner and Shimada came into view. Yamazaki used the calming technique Saito-kumicho taught him and schooled his expression before coming to a halt next to his partner.

“All quiet inside,” Shimada assured him.

Yamazaki nodded and opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of the kitchen door sliding open stilled his tongue. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see the youngest Shinsengumi captain staring back at him in wide-eyed surprise before snapping the door shut again.

“Dammit,” Yamazaki muttered, thinking quickly. “Todo-kumicho was tasked with watching our...other guest,” he explained to Shimada.

“Ah, and if he is in the kitchen...”

“Then so is Yukimura.” Yamazaki frowned. “Hijikata-fukuchō was adamant that we not be seen....”

Shimada looked across the courtyard and gestured to an area cloaked in complete darkness. “I’ll keep watch from there until Yukimura is back in her room,” he said quietly, moving away.

Yamazaki took a deep breath and attempted to tamp down his agitation. Todo-kumicho was a good man, but his lack of discipline was sometimes....trying. Still, Yamazaki respected his abilities. He quietly announced to Matsumori that he was coming in, hoping that he had a firmer grasp on his irritation than he felt; he didn’t want to set the girl any more on edge before he began his work.

As he stepped inside the room, Katsu rose to her feet and turned to face him. Yamazaki had expected it, and had prepared himself for it, but the fact that she gave no thought to standing before him unclothed bothered him on a number of levels. He let his eyes slide past her, and stepped around to the brazier. He noted that she had placed the water jug back over the heat, and winced when he dipped his fingers beneath the surface. He moved the jug to the table.

“It was getting cold,” Katsu said.

Yamazaki let out a small sigh at the defensiveness he heard in her voice. There was an undertone of something else —fear perhaps, or uncertainty— but he would have to think about that later. He had much to do in a short amount of time. He called out to her over his shoulder.

“Matsumori-kun, turn and face the door.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath and then absolute silence; she wasn’t moving.

“Why?” she demanded.

Yamazaki closed his eyes and willed himself to be patient, but there was no time to mollycoddle the girl. Kondo-kyokuchō would be coming to speak with her shortly and he had to get her wounds tended to before then.

“Matsumori-kun...” He heard the warning tone in his own voice and stopped, remembering their earlier conversation and her fear that he would douse her with scalding water. He sympathized with her plight, and if time weren’t a factor, he could show more patience. But there was no help for it. Still, he could at least take a moment to explain what he intended to do.

“I am going to clean the wounds on your back first, using cloth strips just as I did before.”

Katsu eyed the jug of water in his hands and then his face, but slowly turned around as he requested. She glanced back over her shoulder and watched as he approached. Yamazaki moved to her side and placed the water at her feet.

“There will be discomfort,” he told her quietly. “It cannot be helped, but I will work as quickly and carefully as I can.”

Katsu balled her hands into fists and pressed her lips together, preparing herself for what was to come. She watched Yamazaki drop several clean cloths into the jug and then retrieve one from the water.

“Are you ready?”

Katsu nodded and sucked in a breath, and Yamazaki began the arduous task. He started with her shoulders and worked his way down to her legs, methodically washing each cut, burn and abrasion. The task took the better part of an hour, and by the time he finished, Katsu’s legs were trembling with fatigue. She staggered forward a step, letting out a small groan. Yamazaki winced; the process of cleaning had been painful for her, he was certain. The dirt embedded into the wounds had been there for quite some time, and he had had to dig much of it out. Unfortunately, though he had done all he could for her back, it wasn’t over yet.

“Matsumori-kun, I need to examine the injuries on your abdomen and chest. After that, you will be able rest until the commander arrives.”

Katsu’s shoulders slumped on hearing his words, and she let out a shaky breath. It had already taken nearly everything she had in her to stay on her feet. She wasn’t sure that her knees would hold her much longer. And she felt cold...not surface cold, but deep in her bones cold. She didn’t dare contradict him, however. She still hadn’t figured out his temperament and wanted nothing to do with making him angry. She didn’t trust herself to speak; the lump in her throat prevented it. Instead, she lifted a shoulder in a small shrug and waited.

Yamazaki noted the girl’s stooped posture, and though he was sympathetic, kept moving forward with his treatment. It couldn’t be helped; time was short. He dipped another cloth strip into the water and then moved around to face Matsumori. He meticulously cleaned the jagged cut that ran across the top of her right breast and down to her rib cage. It was an ugly wound, and he couldn’t quite make out what had caused the damage. He filed it away to think about later.

Next, he knelt down and looked at her abdomen, where two parallel burns ran horizontally across the entire flat of her belly. They didn’t look to be infected, for which he was thankful. He cleaned the burns and then added a small amount of pressure to her stomach, looking up to gauge her reaction. She winced, but didn’t pull away; the kick she had received from the ronin earlier obviously hadn’t ruptured anything. He rose to his feet and studied her for a moment.

Her skin was pallid, and when he touched her forehead, he frowned at the rising heat. Small beads of sweat glinted on her skin, yet she trembled, and goose-pimples bloomed along her arms and legs. It was not a good sign. He stepped away to sort through the clothing Shimada had brought in earlier and handed the nagajuban and fundoshi to Matsumori.

“Get dressed and then you may rest.”

He turned away to give her some modicum of privacy, regardless of the complete lack of it she was afforded only moments before. He heard the rustling of garments, and kept a close check on her location. He might be giving her privacy, but he wasn’t a fool. He was prepared, if she decided she no longer wanted to play nice.

After several minutes passed, and the small sounds of her movement slowed to a halt, he called out to her. “Are you finished?”

“I...yeah,” she said, her thready voice causing him to turn to her more quickly. She swayed slightly, and as Yamazaki stepped toward her, she sank to her knees.

“Let’s move you to the futon,” he told her, grasping her upper arms and lifting her back to her feet.

He guided her to the mattress and helped her to lie down before pulling the blanket up to her chin. She moaned and rolled onto her side, curling her knees up. Yamazaki rearranged the cover and stood.

“Rest while you can,” he told her, but she didn’t hear him; she was already asleep.

* * *

Kondo waited until the door slid shut behind Yamazaki before turning his attention back to his captains. “Nagakura-kun, what else can you tell us?”

The second unit captain leaned forward, his usual, easy-going smile replaced with a sneer. “Yeah, like I said, the damned bastards had no problem giving up their secrets. It didn’t even take ten minutes.” He shook his head in disgust. “They’re from Chōshu...haven’t been here more than a week. They’re low-ranking soldiers with more fear than loyalty. Most of their chatter was useless, but they did have two noteworthy pieces of information.

First, something big is going down and soon. The rumors we’ve been hearing about large groups of Chōshu on the move appear to be true. These men didn’t have much detail; they weren’t high enough in rank to be kept in the loop, I’m certain of that.

Second, they all referred to a man they called ‘the dragon’.”

Okita, who had been unusually quiet up to that point, let out a contemptuous snort. “The dragon, really? So dramatic.”

Kondo tilted his head to the side, his brows drawing down over perplexed eyes. “Did you learn anything more about this....dragon?”

“Yeah, the name is something the man’s subordinates call him due to an absolute _obsession_ with fire. His true name is Yoshida....Toshimaro Yoshida.”

Harada glanced sharply at Nagakura. “Yoshida? The kid mentioned that name!” Before he could say more, Heisuke’s voice drifted into the room.

“Hold up, Chizuru. Let me get the door!”

“Shouldn’t we announ...?”

But Chizuru’s words fell on deaf ears. Heisuke had already snapped the door open. Every eye in the room moved to the two interlopers. Heisuke’s grin slowly faded as he looked from one face to another.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He looked over his shoulder at Chizuru and waved her forward. “We thought you might want tea,” he announced to the room, smiling and hoping against hope that Chizuru’s presence would keep the scolding he knew he was going to receive at bay.

Chizuru scuttled forward and placed the tray she was holding down at Kondo’s feet. She smiled, nervous but determined to complete her task now that she was here. She peeked through lowered lashes around the room. Saito-san, sitting closest to the door, had his eyes closed but looked much as he always did. Harada-san and Nagakura-san were staring at Heisuke in what appeared to be either amazement or disbelief; she wasn’t sure which. Gen-san had a frown on his face, but trained his eyes to his hands, resting in his lap. Kondo-san was smiling, looking back and forth between herself and Heisuke-kun. And Okita-san...was laughing.

“Ne, Chizuru-chan, aren’t you up a little late?” he asked, once his laughter died away. “Don’t tell me Heisuke-kun woke you up?”

“Ah! No, I was up! I mean, I wasn’t up, but I was awake.”

“Oh? And did you hear anything interesting while you were pretending to be asleep?” he pressed, his smile growing more chilly.

“I couldn’t hear anything, I swear!” Chizuru said at once, her eyes widening as she turned to face Okita. “And I wasn’t pretending! I just couldn’t sleep.”

“Hmn....I don’t know,” he said, pursing his lips and tapping his chin with one finger. “You know if you heard anything, we’d have to kill you.”

“Souji!” Kondo scolded mildly.

“Stop teasing Chizuru,” Heisuke said, stepping up to stand beside her.

Okita chuckled and leaned back against the wall, side-eyeing Saito when the younger man let out a small sigh. His grin widened, but he quietened down and looked to Inoue, who had cleared his throat.

“Yukimura-kun, tea would be appreciated, thank you,” Inoue said with a smile. He looked to Heisuke, and held the young captain’s gaze for a long moment before turning his attention back to Kondo.

“Thank you, Yukimura-kun. But you really should be sleeping.”

Heisuke stepped from one foot to the other as the commander’s eye also came to rest on him.

“R-right! I’ll take her back to her room as soon as tea is served.”

Chizuru began to pour the tea and Heisuke inched his way back toward Nagakura and Harada. He flopped down beside them and received a sharp swat to the back of his head from Nagakura.

“What the hell, Heisuke?” he whispered harshly. “What if we had been talking about _them_? I thought you liked Chizuru-chan a little better than that.”

“You have to be more careful, Squirt,” Harada added, his eyes still tracking Chizuru as she made her way around the room.

Heisuke rubbed the back of his head and looked away with a frown. “I...I didn’t think...”

“And your _not thinking_ is going to get Chizuru-chan _killed_...Remember that,” Nagakura told him.

“I would...eat my blade before I let that happen!” Heisuke said, his voice rising.

“Shhh,” Harada cut in as Chizuru approached with their tea.

The two older captains thanked Chizuru as Heisuke rose to his feet to escort her back to her room. Chizuru noticed his furrowed brow and glanced worriedly between him and the other two men. Harada noticed her expression and smiled up at her.

“Don’t worry, Chizuru. Shin here was just giving Heisuke a few pointers.”

“Ah, Sano-san!” Heisuke yelped. He grabbed Chizuru’s hand and pulled her toward the door, trying his best to ignore the chuckling men behind him.

“Heisuke-kun, I would like to speak with you before you turn in for the evening. Someone will come relieve you shortly,” Inoue said.

“Ah, yeah...right!” Heisuke said, not quite meeting Inoue’s eyes. He gave a quick look over his shoulder to Harada and Nagakura, bustled Chizuru out onto the engawa, and shut the door.

Okita clicked his tongue, drawing looks from all the men in the room. He ignored them all and spoke to Harada.

“You said the kid mentioned this Yoshida character? That’s a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think?”     

Kondo felt the weight of five pairs of eyes on him as they waited for his response. They each knew of his possible connection with the child, no matter how negligible it might be. He knew that, even though Souji had spoken to Harada, they were waiting to hear _his_ —the commander’s— response to Souji’s comment. Not for the first time, he wished Toshi was there. He needed someone to bounce his thoughts off of, and though each man present would be willing to listen, only Toshi dared point out the flaws in his logic. But Toshi was still in Osaka, and Kondo knew he would simply have to trust that his own good sense would guild him and keep him on the correct path.

“We’ll hear what Harada-kun has to say,” he finally said, gesturing toward the captain. “Did the child know this man?”

“Yeah, she mentioned the name; not his given name. I don’t think she knew it. The kid’s pretty cautious, at least toward me. I didn’t get much out of her.”

“I see,” Kondo said, frowning. He knew that the coincidence was too great: to have two young women fall into Shinsengumi hands within a month of each other, both knowing certain key figures in this power struggle between Shogun and Emperor. Still, until he spoke to the girl himself, he would make no judgments.

“She mentioned another name,” Harada continued. “Konoguchi. No given name for him, either, but I got the feeling she was more afraid of him than this Yoshida. She did say Yoshida was in charge, Konoguchi his right hand.”

“Could it have been an act? The fear? It would be a perfect setup; send in a scared kid and get us to let our guard down,” Nagakura said.

Harada looked up at the ceiling and gave the matter serious thought before speaking. “It’s always possible, but I don’t think so. You can’t fake that kind of fear.”

Okita leaned back with dissatisfied grunt. He didn’t like coincidences; they always led to trouble, and this kid was already having an effect on Kondo-san. Okita glanced at his commander, who was lost in his own thoughts once again, and then at Gen-san. Their eyes met briefly before Gen-san looked away.

Okita didn’t like it one bit. It was too bad that Hajime-kun ran into the ronin. If _he_ had found them, they wouldn’t be worrying about any of this shit. He’d have taken care of it in the alley.

“Kondo-san, what did you think of the pages I gave you?” Harada asked suddenly.

“Ah, the papers,” Kondo said, a troubled looking crossing his features.

“These are the documents you took off the kid?” Nagakura asked Harada.

“I didn’t exactly take them off of her; she handed them over as soon as she learned who we were.”

“Seems a little too helpful to me,” Okita muttered, his eyes narrowing.

Kondo surveyed the room, watching each man’s reaction to Okita’s words. It was obvious that the thought had crossed the minds of each of them, and he was certain Toshi and Sannan-san would have agreed. It didn’t bode well for the girl.

He reached inside his hakamashita and drew out the documents Harada had passed along earlier. He flipped through the pages slowly while the men talked quietly among themselves. Finally, Kondo cleared his throat and the room fell silent.

“Some of these documents are out of date. But these,” he said, holding up two pages, “could prove useful.”

“Are you sure we can trust the information, Kondo-san?” Okita asked.

“I believe so. Of course, there is always the chance that I am mistaken, but there are people listed here that we’ve already put on our watch-list. I don’t think they would give up all of these names intentionally. It wouldn’t be beneficial to them. Of course, they will need to be checked out; I trust you men will be able to do that on your rounds.”

Kondo raised his brow. “Interestingly, there are a few names here that weren’t even on our radar. Also, this map...” He held the item up as he spoke. “Nagakura-kun, I would like you to look this over; the markings are in a code I do not recognize. See what you can do with it.”

Nagakura nodded and eyed the document with interest. He enjoyed puzzling out codes, and he was the best the Shinsengumi had to do that particular job. It was something few other than the men present knew. Kondo waved him forward and he stood up swiftly, making his way across the room.

The men broke into groups to study the documents —Saito and Okita poured over the list of possible Chōshu rebels, Heisuke and Harada had a list of places known to cater to the Chōshu, and Nagakura had the map. Inoue took the opportunity to turn to Kondo.

“Will you be speaking to the child now, Isami-san?”

Kondo smiled. “Yes, I want to speak with her.” His smiled faded as he continued. “IF she is here, alone, then I fear only bad news of Seijuro-san.”

“Go...I will deal with this lot. I have the patrolling schedules for tomorrow.”

* * *

Yamazaki leaned back on his heels and rubbed his eyes before dipping another cloth into the now-tepid water. He wrung it out and placed it on Matsumori’s forehead. The girl’s temperature had spiked again and Yamazaki was debating on whether to wake her for another dose of medicine when a soft, single tap sounded on the door. Yamazaki rose to his feet and moved quietly to the door. He waited exactly five seconds for the second tap and then slid open the shoji.

“Our guest is now back behind closed doors. Todo-kumicho remains on guard duty,” Shimada explained.

“Understood. This one is sleeping,” Yamazaki said, tossing a quick look over his shoulder. “Her fever has risen...I could use fresh water.”

“I’ll get it. Anything else?”

“Something by way of necessities...and a screen.” Yamazaki walked over and retrieved one of the jugs for Shimada. When he handed it over, a small sigh escaped him.

“Long night, ne, Yamazaki-kun?” he asked, gave a wry smile, and took the jug.

“Aa. And it isn’t over yet.”

Shimada rested a hand briefly on the younger man’s shoulder and then headed toward the well. Yamazaki watched him for a moment and then returned to Matsumori’s side. She had been restless, her sleep fitful. He felt her brow, though the cooling cloth made it impossible to get a true reading on her temperature. When he heard the shuffling of feet approaching once again, he moved back to the door. Shimada had returned.

“I have the water, and will fetch the other items. Kondo-kyokuchō is approaching,” Shimada added, looking down the walkway.

“I’ll wake the girl,” Yamazaki said as Shimada set the jug down and went to greet the commander. He returned to the futon and spoke her name, waiting to see if she stirred. When she did not, he gently shook her good shoulder until her eyes fluttered open. He helped her into a sitting position and adjusted the blanket so that it covered her properly.

“Sumimasen,” Kondo called from the doorway.  

“Please enter, Kyokuchō.”

Kondo stepped into the room and smiled nervously down at the young girl. Her eyes were wide but held no fear; she looked...expectant. However, when Yamazaki moved toward the door, a soft gasp escaped her. She looked from the medic to the man who now crouched beside her. Kondo rested his arms on his knees and looked her steadily in the eyes. The smile planted on his lips faltered when she frowned up at him.

“Would you like Yamazaki-kun to stay?”

Katsu turned her head away. “It’s fine.”

“Hmn...there was once a young boy in my care who also wanted to be brave, even when he didn’t feel it. I think, for now, I will ask Yamazaki-kun to stay.” He turned to Yamazaki and motioned for him to sit. When the shinobi-medic complied, he turned to Matsumori and continued. “My name is Isami Kondo. I’m the commander of the Shinsengumi.”

Katsu’s eyes opened wide and she leaned forward. “You knew my papa.”

“Your father is Seijuro Matsumori, isn’t he?”

Katsu nodded and glanced quickly to Yamazaki before settling her attention fully on Kondo.

Kondo smiled. “Yes, I knew him well. He was a great man. I admired him very much.”

Katsu looked down at her hands. She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall and gritted her teeth. When she looked back up, her expression was determined.

“He _was_ a great man. He was...” She fell silent and glanced at Yamazaki again.

Yamazaki had tried to be as unobtrusive as possible, but the girl kept casting her eyes in his direction. When she became choked up, he finally gave up on the idea, poured some water into a cup, and placed it in Matsumori’s hand. She looked startled for a moment but took the drink, a small shiver running up her spine as she swallowed the contents. Kondo waited until she placed the cup back onto the floor and then leaned in to speak again.

“Matsumori-kun, I want to speak to you about your father, but first there are questions that need to be answered.”

Katsu tensed at the serious tone in the commander’s voice. “What kind of questions?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

Yamazaki shifted, but Kondo simply shook his head and smiled.

“I would like to know what you know of Toshimaro Yoshida.”

Katsu blinked and cast another side-long glance toward Yamazaki. His presence, as quiet as it was, calmed her. She squared her shoulders and sat up straighter.

“I...he is a bad man.”                  

Kondo scratched his chin. Her answer was too vague to be of use. How could he get her to elaborate? He tried to remember how he had gotten answers from a very reluctant Souji when he was a child. It had been difficult; the boy was very private. Was it the same for this child? He pursed his lips and tried again.

“What makes him a bad man?”

Katsu frowned but took a moment to formulate her answer.  “He likes to hurt people. He likes it when people are scared of him.”

“I see. And you saw him? Face to face?”

Katsu looked confused by the question but nodded her affirmation.

“And the papers you brought with you...did he give those to you?”

“No, I...” and she paused, suddenly looking mildly alarmed. She had taken them —stolen them. Would that get her in trouble with these men? But she had already told Harada-kumicho and Yamazaki-sensei. She firmed her resolve and answered. “I took them when nobody was looking.”

“They were just lying about? Out in the open?” Kondo asked, not bothering to hide his surprise.

“They were in a room...on a desk. I went in there because...I heard people coming and I was afraid they would see me. But then I saw...Papa’s swords. He had my papa’s swords! I took them, too, but now they’re gone again!” Her voice rose with her agitation and she balled her hands into fists.

“Yoshida had your father’s swords?” Kondo asked, incredulous.

“Yes! And...I want them back!”

“Matsumori-kun....” Yamazaki spoke, his voice calm but heavy with warning. “I have told you that your swords are safe,” he reminded her.

“Oh?” Kondo looked to Yamazaki in surprise. “Where are the swords now?”

“I believe Saito-kumicho has them in his care, kyokuchō.”

“Ah! Well, there you go!” Kondo said with a smile, turning back to Katsu. “They are in good hands indeed, if Saito-kun has them.”

“Will he give them back?” she asked.

Kondo smiled, the petulance in the girl’s voice reminding him of Souji years ago. “If I remember correctly, your father had a saying. Let me see....I believe it went something like: _A warrior’s swords are his heart_...”

“... _but his honor is his soul_ ,” Katsu finished. “You _did_ know him.”

“Yes, I really did. And you are really his child.” Kondo looked at the girl, the smile on his face growing. “In good time, you will have his swords back in your possession, I give you my word. But for now, they will remain in Saito-kun’s care.”

Katsu frowned but was in no position to argue. Instead she changed tactics. “I don’t remember you. Papa used to tell me stories about his friends, but I don’t remember you.”

“Ah, well there is an explanation for that, young lady. I didn’t go by this name when I knew your father. And, I was only one of many students he taught. I doubt that I would make it into any of his stories,” he added with a chuckle.

“You have a new name?” Katsu asked, intrigued.

“Indeed. Your father new me as Katsugoro, not Isami.”

Katsu’s eyes widened. “Katsu-kun? The farmer’s son!”

Katsu leaned forward again and then froze, suddenly clapping both hands over her mouth. She looked wildly around at Yamazaki, who was already on his feet emptying one of the jugs of water into the other. He had seen the color drain from her face and knew what was coming. Kondo, however, was at a loss.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Yamazaki placed the empty jug on the futon in front of her and held her steady while she emptied her stomach. Kondo rose to his feet, his expression worried as he looked from the child to Yamazaki and back again.

“I’m afraid she has overextended her strength, kyokuchō. Her fever is rising again.”

“I see. Then questions will have to wait until morning, is that right?”

“If you do not wish to question her under duress, then yes, that would be best.”

“I see.” Kondo paused as Katsu finished and took the cloth Yamazaki handed her.

Katsu washed her face, letting the coolness of the cloth soothe her. She tried to listen to the men speaking quietly above her, but her energy was gone. She just wanted to lie down and sleep. She looked up as Yamazaki placed a cup in her hand.

“Just a sip or two, no more,” he told her.

She complied, and then Yamazaki helped lay her back on the futon. Once she was settled, Yamazaki rose and moved to speak to the commander.

“What are you orders, sir?”

“I need answers...but I won’t ask them tonight. I had planned on sending Harada-kun to guard her door. I assume you would rather stay close?”

“Hai.”

Kondo nodded and looked down at Katsu. “Very well. With Toshi and Sannan-kun away, I can’t spare you for long, but we will figure that out tomorrow. If she wakes, find out what you can about Yoshida and the Chōshu. I’ll be back in the morning, after breakfast.”

“Hai, kyokuchō.”

Kondo took one last look at the child and then exited, leaving her in the care of Yamazaki.


	6. A Friend for Katsu?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katsu meets Heisuke...and has a conversation with Kondo.

Okita lay on his futon with his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. Irritation and suspicion ate at his gut, making sleep impossible. There had been too many coincidences of late, too many strangers wheedling their way into Shinsengumi business, and too many connections to Shinsengumi enemies.

It had started with Kōdō Yukimura, the doctor approved by the Shogunate to join forces with the Shinsengumi. Okita hasn’t decided yet whether to consider the doctor an enemy, but he sure as hell wasn’t an ally —not with that damned serum hanging over all of them like their own personal Shinigami. Even if it was on orders from the Shogun himself, Yukimura-sensei derived far too much pleasure from experimenting on Kondo-san’s soldiers.

And then there was Chizuru-chan, showing up so soon after her father’s mysterious disappearance; it raised a lot of questions. Okita could almost overlook _that_ coincidence.  Though the timing was suspect, and her connection to Kōdō-sensei was more than troubling, the girl herself seemed harmless enough. Only time would tell.

Now, with rumors of Chōshu extremist activity starting to circulate, along comes a kid who just happened to know their secrets, running straight into the arms of the Shinsengumi. Her ties to Kondo-san, whatever they were, only made her more dangerous. Subconsciously rubbing his hand back and forth across his stomach, an old habit that helped settle his unease, Okita cursed under his breath. A low-pitched voice calling out to him from just beyond his door stilled his hand.

“Come in, Hajime-kun” he called, sitting up and turning to face the door.

Saito entered the room, quietly sliding the shoji shut behind him. Okita spotted the small vessel Saito carried in with him, and he reached over to grab two of the three cups he always kept in his room —one for himself, one for guests, and one for Kondo-san, though that one hadn’t seen use in quite some time. Saito knelt in seiza next to the futon and poured a small amount of sake into each cup.

“What’s the occasion, Hajime-kun?” Okita asked as he took a sip of his drink.

Straightening his kimono, Saito rested on his heels and tasted his sake. He finally looked up and spoke. “I hoped to discuss the rumors I have heard today.”

It was what Okita had expected him to say. He set his cup down on the tatami and watched as Saito downed his own drink before pouring a bit more.

“I’ve heard a few, too. You know how it goes; there’s usually some truth in every rumor. We just have to pick through the trash,” Okita told him.

“Aa.”

Saito poured himself more sake and rested the cup on his thigh. Okita shook his head. The third unit captain was renowned for his ability to hold his liquor, but it never ceased to amaze him when he got to see it in person.

“What about the scum we brought in tonight? Think they told you everything?”

“Aa. They were quick to respond to Nagakura’s questions. I do not believe they held back.”

Okita chuckled. “I guess not. I can’t say that I blame them. So they were just throw-aways, then? Nobody important.”

“Rank and files of the lowest caliber.”

They drank in silence for a few minutes, each captain organizing his own thoughts. Saito emptied and refilled his cup once more, eliciting another smirk from Okita.

“I’m sure you’re glad I’m leaving most of that for you,” he said with a sly smile.

Saito took a quick sip, but remained silent as he waited for the conversation to move on. After a brief hesitation, Okita complied.

“This kid you found...think she’s trouble?”

Saito set his now empty cup down and pondered the question seriously for several minutes. Okita watched him, both amused and impatient as he waited. Finally, Saito sat up straighter and spoke.

“I do not believe the child was in collusion with the ronin we captured tonight.”

“Hmn. Why not? What makes you so sure? Maybe she just didn’t know _these_ fools.”

“That is possible, but I do not believe it to be the case.”

“Why?” Okita scowled. It would be so much easier if the blasted girl proved to be untrustworthy. He knew what to do with that type.

“The Chōshu wish to eradicate all foreigners. The child obviously has foreign blood. They were not aware of her gender, and they referred to her as ‘the tainted one’ when questioned.”

Saito lifted his shoulder in a small shrug. Okita leaned back on his hands and frowned up at the ceiling.

“I still don’t like it. It’s too random, the kid showing up out of the blue. _And_ she knows Kondo-san, or he knows her. Whatever.” Okita paused, taking in Saito’s knowing expression. “What?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing.

“Sometimes, chance is just that. However, I agree that the child should be watched.”

“Oh she will be,” Okita muttered, sitting up and downing the rest of his sake. “Don’t you worry about that.”

***

Wakefulness came slowly to Katsu. She lay still, eyes closed, and tried to piece together what was _different_. Her body was stiff and ached with a dull, throbbing pain, but that was nothing new. There was a low buzz of activity from somewhere beyond her room, but nothing nearby that she could make sense of. Again, nothing new. She struggled to sit up, her legs getting tangled in the cover, and gave up quickly. She was too tired to try any harder.

And then it hit her. She knew what was different. She was clothed, lying on a soft mattress, covered by a thin but warm blanket. Her head rested on a pillow and light filtered into the room from somewhere, coloring the backs of her eyelids orange from the brightness. _That_ was new. She wasn’t cold. She wasn’t sleeping on a hard floor. She wasn’t lying in an oppressive darkness. She was with the Shinsengumi!

She bolted upright as her eyes flew open, and grimaced with pain at the movement. A hurried scan of the room confirmed that she was alone. Where was the doctor, Yamazaki?  She pushed the cover aside, trying to kick her legs to get them free of the material, and paused to stare curiously at her feet as they came into view. They were wrapped from ankle to toe with long strips of cloth, covering the blisters and scrapes which had accumulated on her long walk from Chōshu. She didn’t remember Yamazaki-sensei binding them; he must have done so while she slept.

Shaking her head, Katsu struggled to her feet. She shuffled forward on unsteady legs, wincing with each step. Upon reaching the door, she stopped. Was she locked in? Could she go outside? She pressed her ear to the door and listened. At first, she heard very little. Gradually, sounds of life came to her, though faintly; the scuffling of sandals on planks as someone passed by, the quiet murmur of voices in the distance, the clatter of a dish somewhere to her right. Katsu touched the door and debated on whether or not to open it.

She bit her lip and listened intently again before squaring her shoulders. Hadn’t she decided to trust these men? After drawing in a couple of quick breaths, Katsu slid the door open with a snap. She stepped onto the engawa, shielding her eyes from the bright afternoon sun.

“Shiiiiit,” came a whispered exclamation to her left.

Katsu blinked as she turned in that direction, waiting for her eyes to adjust. The speaker was a rather young-looking man with large turquois eyes and brown hair; it was as long as Katsu’s and tied in a ponytail high atop his head. Next to him stood Harada-kumicho, his lean form already turning to face her.

“Whoa, kid. You need to go back inside,” Harada said, moving toward her.

Katsu took a step backward, bumping into the shoji as she watched him close in. She frowned up at him. Was she not allowed to leave her room? Was she a prisoner here? Had she left one prison for another? She looked past Harada to the younger man. He was staring at her, his mouth gaping before he caught himself and snapped it shut. His eyes had grown wide and he continued to gawk at her until Harada gave him an order.

“Heisuke, go grab our guest some food, okay?”

“Huh? Y-yeah, okay! I’ll be right back,” he said, and took off at a half-run.

Harada kept his eyes trained on Katsu. He motioned toward the room behind her, but stopped walking when he noted the look of agitation in her eyes.

“Look, kid. I’m not going to hurt you, but you can’t come out here dressed like that. To be honest, it’s probably best that you stay inside until Kondo-san gives you permission to leave your room.”

Katsu bit the inside of her cheek in frustration, but she did _not_ want to anger this man. She gave a quick nod of compliance and reached behind her to open the door. Keeping a watchful eye on the captain, she slipped inside and shut the shoji quickly, leaning against it as she worked to slow her racing heartbeat.

She didn’t understand. It was obvious that Harada-kumicho was displeased about something; not angry, but not happy either. Why? Something about the way she was dressed...but what? She glanced down at her clothing with a frown. She was wearing what Yamazaki-sensei had given her the night before, a thin juban that hung to just above her knees. It was clean, if somewhat rumpled from sleep.

Harada-kumicho hadn’t had issue with what she wore yesterday. She glanced around the room for her old clothes, but they were gone. Then she remembered Yamazaki-sensei saying they would most likely throw them away. Katsu sighed and moved toward the futon. She spotted the brown hakamashita and hakama rolled into the cover she had tossed aside earlier. After picking them up, her eyes wandered back to the door. The clothing was of similar style to what she had arrived in, though slightly smaller in size and with less wear.

She quickly stripped down, removing both the juban and fundoshi she’d been given. She dressed as best she could with one injured shoulder, but the ties were loose. They would simply have to do. The clothing she had removed was rolled into a small ball and then stuffed under her pillow. She didn’t want someone to take those away, too.

With little else to do, Katsu sat on the futon, pulled her knees to her chest and considered her situation. Harada-kumicho said she shouldn’t leave the room until Kondo-san said different. Did that mean she was a prisoner again? It certainly seemed that way. But Kondo-san appeared to be the man in charge here, and he was far different from the master — _Yoshida_ Katsu corrected vehemently. This _place_ was different. She had her own clothes, a warm place to sleep, food...so maybe she wasn’t a prisoner? But why else would she have to stay in this room? And what was wrong with the clothes she had on earlier? And...where was Yamazaki-sensei?

Katsu growled in frustration. Everything was so...confusing. She pressed her forehead to her knees and took a slow, steadying breath to calm her frazzled nerves. Her head jerked up when Harada spoke from the other side of the door.

“You dressed, Katsu-chan?”

“Yes?” It came out more like a question than a statement.

The door slid open and Harada scanned the room. When his eyes fell on Katsu, he checked to see that she was outfitted properly before stepping inside. Behind him, the young man from earlier stopped in the doorway carrying a tray laden with various bowls of food. He moved forward and set the tray next to the futon, grinning broadly.

“Heisuke, I’m going to let Kondo-san know she’s up. Stay here until we get back, alright?”

“Sure, sure, Sano-san. We’ll be fine!”

Katsu watched the two men as they spoke, but quickly turned her attention to the food. There was soup very similar to what she’d had the previous night, and vegetables she’d never seen before. There were little balls of rice with some kind of seasoning, and a cup of tea. Katsu glanced up at the men again, both still standing by the entrance, and then back to the meal. Neither had said the food was for her, though she really hoped that it was.

Movement at the door recaptured her attention, and she looked up just in time to see Harada exit the room, leaving her alone with the stranger young man. He grinned as he moved back into the room to flop down next to the tray. Katsu looked away as a wave of disappointment washed over her; apparently, the food was his. But he didn’t eat. Instead, he began to speak.

“Hi! I’m Heisuke Todo, captain of Squad Eight. You can call me Heisuke! You’re Katsu, right?”

Katsu stared at him in wide-eyed wonder. She sat forward and studied him so intently that that color began to bloom across his cheeks.

“I-is something wrong?” he asked, looking down at himself to see if anything was amiss.

“You’re a captain?” she finally asked.

Heisuke heaved a relieved sigh and grinned again, sitting up a little straighter.

“You bet I am! I know I look kind of young, but I’m pretty damn good with a sword. Not half bad at hand-to-hand, either!”

Katsu pursed her lips, but she didn’t disbelieve him. She just found him...very different from any person she’d ever met. She cocked her head to the side and demanded, “How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” he replied with a shrug. “I know I don’t look it. And I’m a lot tougher than people think, too.”

Katsu nodded. “You get treated like a kid,” she muttered, scowling down at her hands. “Me, too. But I’m tough, too. And I’m _not_ a kid.”

“It used to bother me a lot,” Heisuke admitted, “and sometimes it still does, but I’m mostly used to it. And the guys here know they can depend on me. It’s mostly just teasing, so I don’t mind so much, ya know?”

Katsu nodded her understanding and then snuck a quick look at the untouched food. Heisuke missed the glance, but he couldn’t help but hear the loud grumble her stomach made.

“Oh! I forgot,” he said with a sheepish smile. “Here, eat up!”

He pushed the meal toward her. Katsu’s eyes widened as she scoped out the tray. There was a lot of food —some she didn’t even recognize— but that didn’t stop her from grabbing the bowl of soup. It sloshed wildly in the bowl as she brought it to her mouth.

“Whoa! Not so fast. You’re gonna spill it!” Heisuke leaned back on both hands and watched her, an expression of awe on his face. Katsu ignored him as she gulped down the warm broth. “Wow, you must be starving. When’s the last time you ate anything?”

Katsu finished the soup quickly before responding, “Yesterday.”

“Really? Man, I thought it was longer. Do you always eat that fast?”

Katsu shrugged and then pointed to a small platter. “What’s that?”

“Huh? That’s onigiri! You haven’t had onigiri before?”

Katsu picked one up and sniffed it. She crinkled her nose and stuck her tongue to it, giving it a tentative taste. Heisuke chuckled when her face brightened. He sat up and leaned forward eagerly.

“Good, huh? You got lucky. Souji was supposed to cook today, but Hajime-kun took his place. Trust me, you don’t want to eat Souji’s cooking.”

Katsu made no attempt to respond to Heisuke’s chatter. Instead, she quickly finished the first onigiri and then the second. Heisuke watched as she snatched up the final one.

“You don’t eat like a girl,” he told her, smiling brightly. “You eat like me!”

Katsu swallowed the last bit of rice ball and then picked up the final bowl on the tray. She brought it to her nose, but quickly jerked her head back.

“That smells...funny.”

“It’s pickled daikon,” Heisuke told her, his eyes lit with amusement. “It tastes better than it smells.”

Katsu looked at it with suspicion, but nibbled on a small piece anyway. She pulled a face that had Heisuke laughing out loud, but managed to swallow the bite down.

“It’s sour,” she told him with a grimace.

“You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it.”

Katsu shook  her head and took another bite. She didn’t know when her next meal might come, so she wasn’t going to waste one bite. Heisuke started to speak again,  but was interrupted. Kondo announced himself at the door and then slid it open. His eyes swept the room before settling on Heisuke.

“I’d like a word with Matsumori-kun...alone.”

***

Nagakura stroked his cheek as he leaned in to study the map Kondo had tasked him with decoding. Sitting next to him, Yamazaki documented their efforts, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“This makes no sense,” he muttered, tapping his notes and looking down at the map.

“Yeah, we’re definitely missing something,” Nagakura agreed.

Yamazaki rose to his feet, paper in hand, and paced the floor with agitated strides. Both he and Nagakura recognized the areas marked on the map. Some dwellings were definitely associated with the sonnō jōi faction, while others were allied to the Shogunate. The problem was that the map had similar markings next to each type and neither man could determine why those particular places had been selected or what the markings meant. It was imperative that they discovered the code’s key.

Nagakura twisted at the waist to stretch the kink out of his back and then asked, “The kid didn’t know anything?”

“Ie. She claims to have chosen the documents at random.”

“And you believe her?”

Yamazaki stopped pacing and looked at the captain thoughtfully. He considered the question seriously before he gave his answer.

“Hai. I do believe her, at least in this. But she hasn’t told us everything, of that I’m certain.”

Setting the map aside, Nagakura scrutinized the shinobi. He knew Yamazaki was a good judge of character —hell, they all were; they had to be in their line of work— but something about the way the younger man spoke raised flags for the captain.

“Why do you say that? Something in particular bugging you?” he asked.

Sighing, Yamazaki resumed his seat and stared at the hands he placed on each thigh. Nagakura remained silent to allow the shinobi to gather his thoughts.

“I don’t believe Matsumori-kun has lied,” he began, reaffirming his belief that the child had been honest with them. “But she is not a typical female, either. She is either holding something back, or...” He broke off, trying to find a way to explain what he was thinking.

“What makes her so unusual?” Nagakura asked.

“Well, she is a samurai’s child, but she doesn’t seem to have that upbringing. She is immodest, curt —almost crude in her speech— though, that isn’t exactly correct either.” Yamazaki let out a frustrated sigh and started again. “Her speech pattern is more consistent with a child’s, though she claims to be older. I can confirm that she is at least in her teens, which is inconsistent with how she behaves and how she talks. I do not believe she’s able to read, which is very unusual for a child of samurai ancestry.” He fell silent and looked to Nagakura for his opinion.

“Hmn...that is pretty weird. I mean, is there anything that would explain all that? The only things I can think of are —one, she isn’t really a samurai’s child, but Kondo is pretty certain of her parentage. Two, she has been separated from her father for a very long time, perhaps a prisoner for longer than she’s indicated?”

“She’s never said how long she was held by the Chōshu rebels. I will be certain to get that information when I see her this evening,” Yamazaki assured.

“Right. It’ll be interesting, in any case. But for now, I suppose we can count out any help from her.”

Nagakura brought the map in front of him and began studying it anew. Yamazaki did the same, and they worked in silence for some time before Nagakura let out a shout!

“Shit! It’s so simple. How could I have missed it?” He pumped a fist in the air and then slammed it down onto his open palm. “Look here, Yamazaki. See this mark here?” At the shinobi-medic’s nod, Nagakura then pointed to another marking at the far end of the map. “It’s identical to this marking, right? But one is under Chōshu control while this one here is not. If you check closely, you’ll see that every mark on the map has an identical partner, set up in the same way —one for Chōshu, one for the Shogun.”

Yamazaki leaned in closer, his eyes widening at the discovery. “So, what do you think this means? Have you seen something like this before, kumicho?”

“Yes! You see, this mark...beside the inn that we know houses Chōshu rebels, matches this mark by the shop that is loyal to the Shogun. So this indicates that these ronin are in charge of either converting or overtaking this particular group of people. Make sense?”

Nodding his comprehension, Yamazaki began noting the matched symbols. “What about these notations, kumicho? They seem to be different from the others.” He pointed toward smaller symbols in the corner of each location.

“Ah, those really had me struggling! I think they might be buildings that are completely loyal to the Shogunate. My thinking is that these places are marked for destruction...a show of power, so to speak. Of course, that is only a guess, so it will need to be checked out.”

The two men looked at one another for a moment, each considering the information and its feasibility. Yamazaki scribbled out a few more notes and then stood.

“I agree with our assessment, kumicho. Will you be reporting this to Kondo-kyokuchō right away?”

“Yeah, as soon as I can. I imagine he’ll have some work for you and Shimada, too, so stay close today.”

“Hai!”

The men separated, Yamazaki heading toward Matsumori’s room, and Nagakura strolling toward the main courtyard. He hoped to find Harada out working his men. If so, he would bring his own crew to train with the tenth unit. Once Kondo-san finished up with the kid, he would go make his report.

***

When Kondo entered the room, Katsu set her empty bowl back down and drew her knees to her chest. Heisuke bounded to his feet and grabbed the tray, tossing a grin at Katsu as he headed to the door.

“See you later, Katsu,” he chirped.

“Just a moment, Heisuke-kun,” Kondo called out, stopping the young captain in his tracks. “Gen-san is waiting for you at the main gate,” he continued, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Ah, man! I forgot about my punishment,” Heisuke groaned and heaved a dejected sigh. He gave another half-hearted wave to Katsu and slunk from the room.

“Bye...Heisuke,” Katsu whispered, eyes wide with apprehension.

She barely knew the captain, but had enjoyed his company and didn’t want him to be punished. Sliding her gaze to Kondo, who had sat next to the futon with crossed legs, she asked a question.

“Is Heisuke in trouble?”

Kondo smiled ruefully. “I’m afraid so. Heisuke-kun is a fine young man, but he sometimes leaps ahead of himself. But don’t worry too much about him. I’m sure Gen-san will have him cleaning the place up a bit, nothing more.”

Katsu bit her lip and looked to the door Heisuke had just exited. Cleaning didn’t seem like much of a punishment to her. Was this man telling her the truth? She cast her gaze toward Kondo again. He seemed genuine. His eyes were warm and his smile looked sincere. Katsu pursed her lips and sat a little straighter. She had another question.

“Where’s Yamazaki-sensei?”

“I’ll make a deal with you, young lady. If you answer a question for me, I’ll answer one for you. Sound fair?”

“I guess so. What's your question?” she demanded.

Kondo raised a brow at the slightly petulant tone but smiled indulgently. He stroked his chin thoughtfully and contemplated the best way to handle her almost childlike attitude. He dipped forward, placed his palms on his knees and inspected her face carefully.

“What?” she asked, leaning away from him, her brows pinched.

“How are you feeling, Matsumori-kun?” 

Startled by a question she wasn’t expecting, Katsu blinked before coming back with a succinct, “Fine.”

Shaking his head at the clipped answer, Kondo’s expression turned shrewd. “Hmn. If you only answer with one word, I will do the same. You asked where Yamazaki-kun was, so my rejoinder is...out.”

Katsu cut her eyes his way and then swiftly turned her head. She huffed an irritated sigh at being out-maneuvered, and Kondo had to stifle a chuckle at her very Toshi-like response.

“I feel...okay —not hungry. I’m tired and my back hurts. My feet feel better. Now it’s your turn.”

“So it is! Alright then, Yamazaki-kun is only a few doors away, doing some work for me. How’s that?”

She nodded and offered a small smile as she asked, “Are we going to talk about Papa today?”

“I would like that very much, but first I need to talk about you.”

“Me?” she asked, skeptically.

“Yes. Does that surprise you?” Kondo asked her.

Looking at him with curious eyes, she answered with a blunt, “Yes.” Tilting her head to the side, she asked, “What do you want to know about me?”

Straightening his spine, Kondo considered how best to approach the topics he wanted to touch on. From the girl’s bearing, she wasn’t one to give information up easily, and he didn’t want to distress her. At the same time, he needed answers. He decided to start with what he hoped would be the easiest questions and would work his way into the more weighty concerns.

“Yamazaki-kun tells me that you’re fifteen. Did you know that I was just one year younger when I met your father?”

With bright eyes, Katsu nodded. “Papa told me all about you! Well, he told me about Katsu-kun the farmer’s son, and that’s you, right? That’s where I got my name!” she added proudly.

Kondo made a strangled noise and looked away quickly. Katsu glanced up worriedly, taking in the pink tinge that colored his cheeks.

“Do you have a fever?” she asked, reaching out to touch his forehead, as she had seen Yamazaki do to her.

“Ie, I’m fine,” he told her gruffly, turning back to face her. “I was surprised by your comment.”

“Why?”

Releasing a small laugh, he took in her animated expression and his eyes crinkled as his grin broadened.

“You remind me very much of your father.”

“I do?”

“Not only in looks, but also by your actions. Your father was an outspoken, free-spirited man.”

“Papa was...” Katsu searched for the best words to describe him. “He was funny and brave...and nice and smart...and handsome.”

“What happened to him, Matsumori-kun?” Kondo asked quietly.

Looking down at her hands, clasped tightly in her lap, Katsu sucked in a deep breath. “Papa died.”

“Was it a sickness?”

“No. Bad men came and...” She slashed her hand downward violently, anger flashing in her eyes. “There were a lot of them...and Papa made me hide...” Her voice trailed off and she buried her face in her knees as the memory assailed her.

Kondo closed his eyes, his chest tightening at the news of his lost friend. He looked around and spotted the cup of tea Heisuke had set aside, and then picked it up.

“Drink this, Matsumori-kun. It will help.”

At first, Kondo thought she might not have heard him; she didn’t budge. But after a few seconds, she lifted her head and reached out for the cup. After taking a small sip, she set it down and squared her shoulders.

“I miss Papa,” she admitted.

Kondo reached out to her, but hesitated before placing a hand on her good shoulder. “How long has he been gone?”

Her face scrunched as she thought about the question. “It’s been...a long time. I think...maybe seven—eight years. But I don’t know. I couldn’t keep up with time sometimes.”

“I see, but what about your brother? Where is he? I remember a young boy.”

“Koteru is dead,” she said bluntly, her expression darkening. “He died when Papa did.”

Kondo sucked in a breath, appalled by the news. If both her father and brother were gone, who had taken care of her? How did she fall into the clutches of such a beastly group?

“Sumimasen,” called a voice from beyond the door.

“Ah, Yamazaki-kun, come in. Matsumori-kun and I are having a little chat, but your presence will not hinder us.”

Yamazaki stepped into the room and shut the door, then moved to sit on the opposite side of the commander. He noted the grief and anxiety in Katsu’s eyes and looked to Kondo. He, too, was disquieted and Yamazaki frowned, but remained silent. Kondo waited for the medic to settle himself and then continued his inquiry with Katsu.

“Matsumori-kun, you said your brother died the day your father was killed?”

Katsu nodded, peeking over at Yamazaki before lowering her eyes again. “He...fell, I think...it’s hard to remember. But I dream about him falling sometimes, so I think that’s what happened.”

Her tone was different, Kondo noticed. Where she had been sad and angry when speaking of her father, she seemed more elusive and tense about her brother. Something had gone on there, but what? Now wasn’t the time to find out, however. Kondo needed to guide the conversation to Toshimaro Yoshida.

“I need to ask you some difficult questions. Do you need a small break?” he asked her, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I’m fine. I can answer questions,” she said, jutting her chin out stubbornly.

The men exchanged a quick glance and then Kondo leaned in to continue the conversation. Yamazaki pressed his hands to his thighs and waited, listening intently.

“Matsumori-kun, I need to ask you about the Chōshu. It won’t be pleasant, but I must have answers.”

“Okay,” she told him, lifting her shoulder in a small shrug, though her lips turned down at the mention of her captives.

“From what I have understood, you were six —maybe seven— when Seijuro-sensei was killed, and Koteru-kun died at that time as well, correct?”

Katsu affirmed his question and he continued.

“Is this when you were taken to Chōshu? Did...Toshimaro Yoshida kill your family?” He asked in low tones, knowing there was no way to soften the blow of the question.

“No. After Papa died, I stayed home for a long time. I thought...maybe someone would come. But then I got hungry and the food in the fields got rotten.”

“Just a minute. Are you telling me that you lived by yourself, at seven years of age?!” Kondo exclaimed, taken aback.

“Until I got hungry. Then I walked until —I don’t really remember how long— until I found people. But they didn’t like me much. They said I was a....foreigner.”

Kondo sat back, dumbfounded. He caught Yamazaki’s eye and the two shared an incredulous look. How had she survived? It was unheard of!

“Did no one take you in? Were there no children’s homes?”

“I didn’t need to be in one of those. They aren’t nice. I was just fine on my own,” Katsu told him defiantly. “But....” and she looked away before sneaking a quick peek at the shinobi before she continued, “I did pretend sometimes. So that I wouldn’t get taken.”

Kondo gazed at her, perplexed. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. You pretended?”

“I...sometimes I pretended I was with someone, so I wouldn’t get sent away. I followed behind families and people thought I was their kid. But...sometimes I got in trouble for taking food without asking.”

Kondo shook his head, trying to take it all in. He was horrified by the story. Could it be true? Surely she was making it up!? A quick glimpse in Yamazaki’s direction told him that the medic was angry. Did he believe the story?

“Matsumori-kun, are you telling me the truth? Because I can overlook many things, but I cannot abide a liar.” Kondo’s voice was less harsh than his words, but Katsu jerked back as if she’d been slapped.

 “I’m not a liar!” she stated emphatically, glaring up at him. “Papa said I should always tell the truth.”

Holding up his hands, Kondo tried to assuage her. “That is good to know. I’m sure Seijuro-sensei taught you many things, ne?”

Giving him a sulky glower, Katsu nodded. “Papa was smart.”

Smiling down at her, Kondo was quick to agree. “Yes, and he was a very good man. I learned a lot from Seijuro Matsumori, and I feel honored to have known him.”

Searching his face, Katsu tried to determine if he meant what he said. Kondo held her gaze, allowing her time to make her own judgment, his expression clear of any subterfuge. Katsu sighed, and finally looked away, satisfied that he wasn’t trying to trick her but not willing to tell him as much. She noticed Yamazaki studying her and bit her lip. Why was he watching her so closely? Kondo cleared his throat, drawing the attention of both back to him.

“I have to ask more questions that may be difficult for you, but it cannot be helped. I need to know about your time with Toshimaro Yoshida.”

It was something Katsu had been expecting, but she couldn’t help the shiver that traveled down her spine. She didn’t want to talk about Yoshida...or Konoguchi. She picked up the cup of tea she’d almost forgotten about and drank the remainder— a small way to stall what was coming. Finally setting it back down, she crossed her arms over her chest and waited.

“How long were you with Yoshida?” was the first question Kondo asked, and Yamazaki leaned in closer, curious about her response.

Katsu bit her lip as she tallied up the time in her mind. She knew it was almost four years, but that was as close to an answer as she could give. Time wasn’t easy for her, since there had been no windows to gauge daylight from darkness in her small cell of a room. She told Kondo as much, and he clamped his jaw shut to keep from commenting. A quick eye sent in Yamazaki’s direction showed that the shinobi felt much the same way.

But the timeline was confusing for both men. If she was seven when her father died, and about eleven when Yoshida took her, that left four unaccounted years. Had she lived on her own for so long? Kondo was heartbroken. His dear friend, lost. And his children...one dead and one so mistreated that it seemed impossible to believe. While he struggled to come to terms with the information, Yamazaki spoke up.

“Sumimasen, Kyokuchō. May I ask a question?”

“Yes, of course. Ask what you feel is important, Yamazaki-kun.”

The shinobi turned to Katsu and began. “Yesterday you stated that Yoshida held you prisoner because you were tainted. Can you explain what you mean by that?”

Heaving a tired sigh, Katsu nodded. “I have...foreign blood,” she started, glancing up quickly to see how her confession affected the two men. Seeing that they appeared unphased, she continued. “The mast...Yoshida...said that foreigners were...ruining the country. All foreign blood is...an...abom...abom...” She struggled with the word and Yamazaki cut in.

“Abomination?”

Katsu nodded. She pointed to her hair. “This made him really mad. He said...it was unnatural. K-Konoguchi wanted to cut it off and burn it, but Yoshida said...it gave him fuel for the fire to look at it. But I didn’t understand what he meant.” She looked up at Yamazaki to see if he might be able to explain it. Yamazaki, in turn, glanced to Kondo.

“So your hair color prompted him to take you and keep you prisoner?” Kondo asked, aghast.

“I guess. I think he just doesn’t like people much. He isn’t very nice to his guards. They’re scared of him, all of them except Konoguchi. I think the master is scared of Konoguchi.”

“Why do you say that?” Yamazaki asked.

“Well...because...Konoguchi isn’t like everybody else. He likes bad stuff. It makes him happy to hurt people and he’s not scared of the master. And I think that makes the master afraid.”

Neither man commented on her lapse of calling Yoshida by his name, but both had noticed it. Kondo’s stomach turned at the thought of such an atrocity. He wanted to find this man. If he could do nothing else, getting his hands on Toshimaro Yoshida had made its way to the very top of his to-do list. But as much as he hated the idea of troubling the child further, he asked another question.

“Matsumori-kun, when you were with these men, did they ever speak of the Shogunate? Did you hear anything at all about what they plan to do?”

“They don’t like the Shogun. None of them do. And...they don’t like the Shinsengumi,” she added, peeking up warily through her lashes. “They talk about doing stuff a lot— catching all the ‘dogs’ and ridding the country of...its ‘droppings’.”

An angry huff to her left told her Yamazaki was displeased with the sentiments, and she had to agree. So far, she found the Shinsengumi far from the villains Konoguchi made them out to be. She couldn’t imagine Yamazaki-sensei, or Kondo-san, or especially Heisuke, punishing her in the way Yoshida and his cronies had done. She sat up straighter and offered a small smile to both men.

“But I’m not there anymore, so everything’s fine.”

Returning her smile, Kondo reached out and ruffled her hair. “Yes, that is very good. And, from the way someone keeps watching your movements, I’d say it is probably time for your medication, eh Yamazaki-kun?”

“Hai. It would be best for her to rest, if you are finished questioning her, Kyokuchō.”

“Yes, I’m done for now. Thank you, Matsumori-kun.” Kondo rose to his feet slowly, offering another smile to the girl and then heading toward the door. Before sliding open the shoji, he turned to add, “I will come visit again as soon as I can. I would love to speak more about your father.”

Katsu’s expression brightened and she nodded quickly. “Okay!”

With that, Kondo stepped outside, leaving Katsu alone with the medic. She observed him through small side glances, waiting to see what he intended to do. So far, he had not moved, and she began to grow nervous.

“Matsumori-kun, in a moment, I will need to clean and redress your wounds, but before I do that, there is something you need to understand. It is very important, so I want you to listen closely.”

“Okay,” she agreed, her expression perplexed and cautious.

“You have mentioned several times that you are tainted, or an abomination. This is not so. Yoshida and his men are the true evil here. Do you understand?”

Blinking in surprise, Katsu nodded slowly. Yamazaki held her gaze, determined that she completely comprehend what he told her. When he was satisfied that she did, he moved on.

“Today, I am going to show you how to clean the wounds on your abdomen and chest yourself. This will afford you more privacy, so I want you to play close attention. I will continue to care for those areas that you are unable to treat yourself, and on the days that I am unavailable, I will make certain that someone else takes my place. When that happens, they are only to clean the wounds on your back and feet. Understood?”

“Yes,” she told him, a small amount of trepidation in her voice. “Yamazaki-sensei...” She paused, trying to form her question in a way that wouldn’t anger the man.

“There is no need for such a title, Matsumori-kun. I am simply a medic, not a doctor. But you can speak freely here. What is your concern?”

She took a deep breath and blurted, “Can I just wait for you to come back to get my wounds cleaned? I won’t do anything to make them worse, I promise!”

“I’m afraid that isn’t wise. However, if it will make you less uncomfortable, and if I am able to do so, I will ask someone of your choosing to do the work when I am gone. I can’t promise that it will always be feasible to do so, but I will try my best.”

Biting her lip, Katsu agreed. “Can...Heisuke do it, then? I like him! He’s...nice.”

Yamazaki had his misgivings about allowing Todo-kumicho to undertake such a task, but he would confer with Kondo-kyokuchō on the matter. To Katsu, he said, “I will see what can be done.”

Satisfied with that, Katsu waited for her medicine and then listened attentively as Yamazaki showed her how to clean the torn skin on her breast and the burns across her abdomen. The cleaning of her back and feet went without any trouble and Katsu was just about to lie down when a voice outside the door asked for admittance.

“Dinner for Katsu!” Heisuke said as Yamazaki slid open the door.

Katsu’s eyes widened in surprise. She’d already had food that day. Had Heisuke forgotten? Should she remind him? But he set the tray down and then left immediately, so Katsu dug in, Yamazaki slowing her down on occasion as she ate.

 

 


	7. Catastrophe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sannan is injured....Heisuke is injured....Drama drama...

After leaving Katsu’s room, Heisuke trudged the few steps back to the kitchen, where Inoue stood waiting for him. As part of his punishment for dragging Chizuru to a private captain’s meeting, the older man had tasked Heisuke with a slew of unpleasant chores, including a week’s worth of cooking and dishwashing. The moment he stepped across the threshold, he was handed two trays and sent scampering to the common room.

“Oi, shrimp, it’s about damn time,” Nagakura complained loudly. “We’re starving here!”

 “You know, Heisuke, if it’s going to take you this long to prepare our meals, you might want to consider starting sooner,” Okita added with a smirk.

Heisuke, already peeved because of what he considered a totally unfair workload, whirled to level his fellow captains with a sharp glare. In his haste, he nearly dropped the precariously balanced trays.

“Shut up!” he snapped. “Just for that, both of you can wait. Here, Hajime-kun.” Heisuke thrust one of the meals toward Saito, who thanked him quietly.

“I’ll take that one,” Harada said, hopping up to grab the remaining meal from Heisuke’s hands.

Okita snickered at the outburst, and then side-eyed Saito. With his smirk growing more mischievous, he reached over to pull the younger man’s food toward him. “I think the first division captain should be served first, right, Hajime-kun?”

Grasping Okita’s wrist firmly, Saito deadpanned, “A first division captain should show patience and restraint.” Laughing aloud, Okita pulled his hand away, and Saito released his grip immediately.

“I agree with Saito-kun,” Inoue called from the door. He strode into the room and placed a tray at Okita’s feet, and then handed a second one to Nagakura. “Heisuke-kun, I leave it to you to collect Yukimura and your food. I will be eating with Isami-san this evening.”

“Kondo-san isn’t joining us?” Okita asked, his sharp eyes searching Inoue’s face.

“Ie. We have finances to discuss. Isami-san didn’t want to bore you all. However, if you’d rather listen in....” He let the sentence hang, his brow arched as he looked each man in the eye.

“No, no, that’s fine,” Okita backtracked quickly. Sitting next to him, Saito hid a small smile behind his scarf.

“Well, I’ll just go get Chizuru then,” Heisuke piped up.

He slid past Inoue and trotted down the engawa, leaving the others chuckling behind him. When he returned a short time later with Chizuru -and their food- in tow, the eldest captain had gone. Harada glanced up as they entered the room and offered a friendly smile to Chizuru. He scooted over to make room for her between himself and Nagakura, in what had quickly become her “spot.” Heisuke plopped down on the other side of the second unit captain and pulled his tray closer. The moment it was in reach, Nagakura used one of his own chopsticks to stab the small fish lying on Heisuke’s plate.

“Hey, give that back!”

“’S too late,” Nagakura mouthed around a large bite.

“Fine, then I’ll just take this!” Heisuke shouted, trying to stab the fish still lying on his friend’s tray.

A small scuffle broke out, much as it did any time the captains were left on their own, and Chizuru had to inch closer to Harada to keep from getting hit by a stray elbow. The battle continued for several minutes, but then Inoue’s voice interrupted the chaos, its timbre drawing every eye in the room.

“There is word from Osaka. Sannan-kun has been injured.” He raised a hand to quieten the men as they each began asking questions. “His arm has been wounded, though not critically. He will live.”

“Oh, well that’s good!” Chizuru said, breathing out a small sigh of relief.

“No, it isn’t, Chizuru,” Heisuke said, his voice strained. “It’s....horrible.”

“Huh?” Chizuru glanced around the room, confusion evident on her face.

Noticing her bemused expression, Saito spoke, his quiet voice silencing the other captains. “A swordsman cannot fight with one arm, Yukimura. His strength and balance would be halved.”

“He’d be a walking dead man,” Heisuke whispered.

Murmurs spread throughout the room and then Okita muttered, “He’d have to take it.”

“What?! No way!” Nagakura bellowed, causing Chizuru to shrink away from him. “We can’t have a man like Sannan-san....” He broke off, shaking his head in disbelieved anger.

“He’d have to join the Corps,” Heisuke finished for him, his eyes round and shadowed.

Chizuru wrinkled her brow, completely at a loss. The conversation made no sense to her. How could Sannan-san join the Corps when he was already a part of it? She voiced her question aloud and, once again, Heisuke took the lead.

“Well, you see....there’s the Shinsengumi, but then within the Shinsengumi there’s...”

“Heisuke!” Harada roared, leaping to his feet so quickly that Chizuru let out a small yelp of surprise.

Charging forward in a blur of motion, Harada slammed his fist into Heisuke’s jaw, sending the smaller man flying backward.

“Sano, that’s enough! Get a hold on that temper of yours!” snarled Nagakura, moving to place himself between his two friends. He planted his palm firmly against Harada’s chest and turned to look at Heisuke.

“You okay, squirt?” he asked.

“Y-yeah, I’m good.”

“Shit!” Harada muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “Shit!”

Sitting up and rubbing his jaw tentatively, Heisuke risked a quick glance up at the tall red-head. “Man, Sano-san, that hurt!”

Wincing as he took in the damage done, Harada felt himself flush. It had been a long time since his temper had gotten the better of him and it didn’t feel good at all. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“But you gotta be more careful, Heisuke,” Nagakura added, moving over to help him to his feet.

“Yeah, I wasn’t thinking. Sorry,” he mumbled.

Chizuru sat stock-still, her eyes wide with shock. What had happened? What had Heisuke said that he shouldn’t have? Her mind raced as she tried to piece together what had taken such a kind-hearted person like Harada-san, and turned him into the violent man he’d become so swiftly.

“Chizuru-chan, don’t think too much on this,” Okita warned, rising to his feet. “It’s best you forget anything you might have heard.” He paused and added, “I’ll take you back to your room.”

“Sorry, Chizuru-chan,” Harada called as she got to her feet.

Okita motioned for her to move to the door, and she bowed to the other captains before being led from the room. Just outside, Okita’s voice drifted back in.

“If you dwell on this, we’ll have to kill you.”

Saito glanced at the others and then quietly rose and slid out the door. He knew that word of Sannan’s injury, plus Heisuke’s near-slip would be enough to set Okita more on edge than usual. In that mind-set, he could become vicious; something for which Yukimura would be completely unprepared. He slid into step beside the pair, and Okita smirked at his presence.

“Afraid I won’t play nice, Hajime-kun?”

“I have the watch tonight,” he replied, unaffected by the older man’s attempt to bait him.

They walked in silence until they reached Yukimura’s room. As Saito slid open the door, Okita gave one final scathing comment.

“I guess you lucked out again, Chizuru-chan. You won’t have to worry about getting threatened for another night.”

“Yukimura,” Saito cut in, escorting her into the room. “Good night, Souji,” he said pointedly to Okita.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m going. Goodnight, Chizuru-chan. Sweet dreams!” He chuckled as he made his way to his own quarters.

* * *

**Osaka**

Hijikata sat at a desk wedged beneath a tiny window and stared at the blank page before him. In the next room, Sannan had finally quieted, his pain yielding to the opium he had fought against taking until it had proved absolutely necessary. Hijikata had breathed a sigh of relief when the deputy commander had relented at last.

Pressing fingers to tired eyes, Hijikata muttered a curse and shoved his writing material aside. The report he had sent to Kondo would have arrived by now, but it hadn’t even begun to convey all that needed to be said. There was always the chance that a letter could be intercepted, so Hijikata had to downplay the information carried by the hands of another. Still, Kondo was adept at reading between the lines, and he would know that things were much worse than the message intimated if Hijikata sent word to him so swiftly.

Pushing himself to his feet, Hijikata moved quietly to the door and down to the next room, listening at the threshold before entering. Sannan slept on, but even at rest, his face was pinched with pain. The blanket had slipped down, exposing the bandages that covered his shoulder. Hijikata watched his steady breathing for a moment longer and then turned away, shoulders slumped, and trudged back to his own quarters.

Upon entering, Hijikata snuffed the flame of the candle and settled on the futon, though he knew sleep would not come for some time. Images from the previous day flashed through his mind as he lay staring at the ceiling. It had been his fault. If only....

_It had taken most of the day to reach the outskirts of Osaka, and both Hijikata and Sannan were weary from the long ride. Their conversation had gradually dwindled, and by the time they neared their destination, they had fallen silent._

_The sound of steel on steel drew each man out of his own thoughts as it rang through the air, and over the din, faint shouts could be heard. Glancing at one another, the two officers prodded their horses to a full gallop._

_They crested a hill and came upon the cause of the noise —and the reason for their journey; a band of rebels were attacking a small group of merchants. Using their horses as a barrier, Hijikata and Sannan moved to separate the tradesmen from the raiders. They slid from the animals’ backs, drew forth their swords and jumped into the fray._

_The rogues were more skilled than expected, and the merchants were more hindrance than help —at least to Hijikata’s way of thinking. The skirmish, which set the Shinsengumi men at a disadvantage of four to one, lasted longer than it should have, but both men had traveled all day; they were exhausted before they even began._

_Holding their own, they fought back to back until the eight were whittled down to three. Two broke away and dashed toward the trees, and Hijikata bolted after them, leaving the final warrior to Sannan. Hijikata caught up with the rebels before they could disappear into the underbrush, his sword cutting off their exit. Slicing downward, he disarmed the first man with ease. The second assailant was quicker, and as Hijikata’s blade arced upward, he leapt to the side and parried the blow. An intense battle ensued, and Hijikata was bearing down on his opponent when Sannan’s shout warned him of the man he had disarmed earlier creeping up behind him. Twisting around and ducking in the same motion, he just managed to miss getting a tanto in his ribs._

_Sannan ran toward them, his sword dancing into the fracas with blinding speed. He spun in one direction, Hijikata in the other, and both men found themselves back to back once more. The two rebels were in a league far above their cohorts, and Hijikata had already broken into a sweat. Sannan’s arms were shaking as they swung his sword. Neither man noticed the third rogue until he was right upon them._

Emitting a deep sigh as the memories assailed him again, Hijikata sat up. They had nearly taken the enemy —Hijikata was certain they were Tosa farmers— but that third man sneaking up on them from behind had turned the tables quickly. Sannan had twisted around just in time to receive a devastating blow to his shoulder. Hijikata had only been able to stare in horror.

For too long, he replayed the events in his head, going over every minute detail, wondering what he could have done differently. Could he have kept Sannan safe? He knew it was pointless to play the ‘what if’ game, but it couldn’t be helped. If he had stayed with Sannan instead of running off after the others, they might have been better prepared. If he had ensured that Sannan’s man was down, the fool wouldn’t have been able to sneak up behind them.

Tossing his blanket aside, Hijikata rose and then listened intently for any noise coming from the next room over. The sound of feet shuffling along the corridor roused his suspicions and he left his room to check on his comrade. Sliding the shoji to Sannan’s room aside, he took a step forward, his eyes falling on the deputy commander immediately. A lantern was lit, and though Sannan lay with his eyes closed, Hijikata knew he was awake. A low mewl emanating from his throat and Hijikata paused, uncertain whether to disturb him or not. Before he could decide, Sannan opened his eyes.

“Hijikata-kun,” he said, his voice hoarse and laced with pain.

Striding forward, Hijikata knelt in seiza next to the futon. He took in Sannan’s appearance in silence. He was pale with cold sweat beaded on his skin and his hair plastered to his forehead. Looking around, he picked up a pitcher of water and poured some of its contents into a small cup that sat on a tray next to the mattress. He leaned forward to lift Sannan’s head, intent on assisting the man, but Sannan stopped with a word.

“Don’t...”

“Sannan-san, I....”

“I’m not an invalid,” came the growled response. “Don’t.”

Hijikata snapped his mouth shut. After all, it was his burden to bear. Of course Sannan would be angry —probably scared out of his mind. An injury like that could be the end of his military career. And Hijikata had done absolutely nothing to prevent it.

* * *

Katsu rested on her futon and watched Yamazaki as he worked. He sat on the tatami next to her, surrounded by an assortment of items—various dried plants, his notebook, and several sheets of thin, fancy paper. In his lap, he held a small bowl and stick that he explained was a mortar and pestle when she asked.

His routine fascinated her, and she wanted to ask questions about everything he did. But not wanting to disturb him, she remained silent, bit her lip, and leaned in closer. She kept her eyes trained on his hands as he crumbled dried leaves into the bowl, ground them to a fine powder, and then folded the powder neatly inside the special paper.

But what held her attention the most was the marks he made in his journal. After each powder was packaged, he would scribble a note in the book. Katsu loved the sound of the pen scratching across the page—loved the sharp lines that formed in black, so contrasted against the light paper.

Yamazaki would glance up at her from time to time, scanning her face, and when she commented, he explained that he was searching for any sign of fatigue or pain. She assured him that she was fine, and he gave an indiscernible look before turning back to the work he had fallen behind on over the past two days.

The silence in the room was a welcome change from the usual clamor of the compound, and both Yamazaki and Katsu felt comforted by it. They didn’t get to enjoy the quiet for long, however.

“Excuse me,” Inoue called from the door, his voice strained. Yamazaki was on his feet in an instant, the tone of the captain’s voice setting him on guard.

With a mild warning for Katsu to stay put, he slipped outside and shut the shoji, leaving her to wonder what was going on. Were they talking about her? Had something happened to make them angry? Yamazaki-sensei’s order the stay put had been curt; did that mean something?

She tried to listen to what was being said just outside of her room, but the men spoke in whispers and she couldn’t make out a single word. She considered moving closer, but Yamazaki-sensei’s instructions had left no room for argument. Fidgeting on her mattress, she growled in frustration and forced herself to wait. When the shoji slid open moments later, she tucked her knees beneath her and glanced up at the medic. He had stopped just inside the doorway, his brows drawn down over troubled eyes.

“Yamazaki-sensei?” she queried, cautiously.

His eyes snapped to hers, and she tensed, waiting for his reaction to her call. He seemed to gather himself, and offered a small, rueful smile.

“My apologies, Matsumori-kun.”

Katsu frowned up at him. He didn’t appear to be angry, though he was obviously upset. As he moved to reseat himself next to her, Katsu glanced around, her eyes falling on the cup of tea he had prepared for her earlier. Picking it up, she offered him the drink. At his questioning look, she explained.

“You said this makes people feel better.”

Yamazaki’s eyes widened in surprise, and then he let out a soft sigh of amusement as he shook his head. “That was made for you, Matsumori-kun, to reduce your fever and relieve your pain. You must drink it yourself. I thought you had already done so.”

Pursing her lips, Katsu tried to think of anything else that might lessen the tension she felt in the room. Whatever had been discussed outside her door had not set well with Yamazaki-sensei. Her attention was brought back to him when he motioned to her cup.

“Drink,” he ordered firmly.

She did as he said, downed the drink in one big gulp, and then set her cup aside. He shook his head again, his lip twitching as he resumed his work. Katsu narrowed her eyes, unsure of his reaction. She wanted to know why he was upset, too. Should she ask? Should she not? It was getting very tiring, trying to figure out if people were mad at her.

“Matsumori-kun...”

Yamazaki’s voice pulled her back to the present and she looked over to him.

“You should rest. Your body will heal more quickly if you care for it properly.”

“I’m not tired yet,” she countered quickly. “Yamazaki-sensei...why are you upset?”

Glancing up at her sharply, Yamazaki told her, “That is not your concern.”

At the severe tone, Katsu tensed and moved away from him. It had been a mistake to ask. He looked back down at his work, so she relaxed slightly, but was thankful when a call from the other side of the shoji announced Heisuke. Katsu sat up eagerly as Yamazaki moved to slide open the door. She heard his sharp intake of breath before he spoke.

“kumicho, what happened?” He stepped back to allow Heisuke entrance.

“Heisuke!” Katsu cried out when she saw him, then scrambled to her feet, her eyes wide. She started toward him but stopped as Yamazaki turned Heisuke toward the light.

“It’s not as bad as it looks!” Heisuke tried to assure them both, smiling brightly. “Ah, ouch!”

Yamazaki ran his fingers along Heisuke’s jaw and looked to make sure the skin wasn’t torn. Satisfied that there were no broken bones or open wounds, he turned and walked to the brazier to heat more water.

“I will prepare something for the pain,” he told Heisuke quietly.

“Thanks, Yamazaki-kun! I’m here to take over for you, though,” he said before turning to Katsu. “Hi!” He sat next to her futon and looked over the items Yamazaki had laid out.

Katsu sat back down, her eyes never leaving Heisuke’s face. She lifted her hand to touch his eye, but thought better of it and let it drop to her lap.

“Was...that part of your punishment?” she asked, just above a whisper.

“Huh? N-no! No way!” Heisuke waved his hands in denial and then pointed to his cheek. “Sometimes, I talk too much,” he told her, adding sheepishly. “This is just...a reminder from Sano-san to…” He snapped his mouth shut and cast a hurried glance over to Yamazaki.

“Sano-san? Who’s that?”

“You know...big red-head? He was here this morning.”

“Harada-kumicho?”

Heisuke peeked back up at Yamazaki, who still had his back to them. Seeing nothing to show that they had been overheard, Heisuke nodded silently to Katsu while pressing a finger to his lips. Hoping to change the subject, he added, “Did you like the food I brought you earlier?”

“Yeah! The soup was really good, and I had more of those...onigiri?”

“Yeah, onigiri. I made those!”

“ They were real good.” She paused a moment, her head tilted to one side. “Does everybody here cook?” Katsu asked.

“Well...sort of. But you really don’t want to eat anything Souji makes. Or Hijikata-san, but he’s been banned from the kitchen so you’re safe there.” He winced when he heard the soft clearing of a throat drifting from the brazier. Rushing on, he asked Katsu what she had thought about the vegetables. He had made sure to fix her a fresh daikon salad, without the pickling liquid.

“It was good. All of it was good...but....”

“But?” Heisuke prodded.

“Well....how often do you eat around here? I’ve eaten an awful lot since I’ve been here.”

Heisuke laughed. “We like to eat! But to be honest, we don’t eat real extravagant or anything. We eat simple, but good. Kondo-san sees to that.”

“kumicho,” Yamazaki intoned, walking up to set a small cup of tea in front of him.

“Thanks!”

Yamazaki inclined his head and then turned to Katsu. “It would do well for you to eat more, Matsumori-kun. You are too thin and will be much more susceptible to infection.”

Katsu pointed at Heisuke. “He’s thin, too.”

“Hey!” Heisuke cried with an indignant tone. “I’m not skinny. This is lean muscle!”

Ignoring both of them, Yamazaki began to put away his medicines and tools. Katsu stopped to watch him with a furrowed brow.

“You didn’t get to finish,” she told him, matter-of-factly.

“It can’t be helped. For now, I must speak with Kondo-kyokuchō.” He stopped his work and looked up at Katsu. “Matsumori-kun, I may not return tonight. You must remember to put the packet of powder I gave you in your tea if you feel any pain. Do you understand?”

When she nodded, Heisuke piped up. “I’ll make sure she takes it!”

“Thank you, kumicho.” Gathering his various pouches, Yamazaki slipped from the room.

* * *

Kondo sat on the zabuton and stared into his now-empty cup. He didn’t remember drinking the tea Inoue had brought; he was too distracted by the thought of Sannan’s injury. He had read Hijikata’s letter twice over when it arrived, and then read it again when Inoue joined him nearly half of an hour later. The thought of one of his men, injured in a way that might be irreparable, was catastrophic. Questions whirled in his mind like flies on honey, and he couldn’t bear to think of the worst-case scenario. Instead, he wanted to believe that Sannan would recover and all would be well.

“Isami-san?” Inoue called.

Glancing up, Kondo smiled grimly at his friend. “It’s a tough hit, Gen-san. We can only hope that it isn’t as bad as it seems.”

Nodding his agreement, Inoue sipped his tea and looked out at the night sky. “There is always hope.”

They grew silent, each lost in their own thoughts. There had been so much that Hijikata hadn’t said, and they both knew it. Letting out a disheartened sigh, Kondo rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m sure Toshi is blaming himself, somehow.”

“Indeed. He’s very good at shouldering responsibility not meant for him,” Inoue agreed. “And you try to do the same for him. But we are a family here, Isami-san. You have said so yourself. We must share the burdens.”

“Yes, absolutely. We’ll take care of everything once they return. For now, let’s just work to keep the boys’ spirits up. We will know soon enough what Toshi was unable to say in his report.”

“Mnm.”

A quiet call from outside interrupted the conversation. “Excuse me.”

“Yamazaki-kun, enter!”

Stepping into the room, Yamazaki knelt before Kondo after giving a small bow to Inoue.

“Kyokuchō, Inoue-san has told me of Sannan-sōchō’s injury. I will begin researching all that might be done to aid in his recovery immediately.”

“I am sure Sannan-kun will be in good hands, then,” Kondo told him.

Yamazaki’s heart leapt at the praise, but he simply said, “Do you have any more information, sir?”

“I’m afraid not. The missive was vague, as it needed to be.”

“Of course, I understand.”

Inoue spoke up, drawing both men’s attention. “Nagakura-kun mentioned a breakthrough in the coded map.”

“Hai, Inoue-kumicho! We believe we are now able to determine the locations of our biggest threats.”

“At last, something positive!” Kondo exclaimed. “Was the child of any more help to you?”

“No more so than providing the map and her explanation of the hierarchy of the men who held her.”

“I see...well, she has done more than enough, I’d say. How is her health?”

“She is very resilient, though there are still indications of infection. She will heal, though she will bear the scars of her imprisonment.”

Kondo grimaced at the news, and Inoue looked down at his tea. Yamazaki adjusted himself slightly and waited for further comment or instruction. Eventually, Kondo cleared his throat.

“Yamazaki-kun, there were two places of interest on the map that I would like for you and Shimada-kun to investigate. It will be up to you which you look into first.”

He glanced to Inoue, who stood and retrieved the map from Kondo’s desk and laid it out before them. Pointing to a small merchant shop, he waited until Yamazaki had leaned in to get the logistics before continuing.

“This shop is owned by a man named Masuya Kiemon. He is not on our list to watch, so I would be very interested to know why he’s of such interest to the Chōshu. We have purchased items from him on several occasions.”

Yamazaki acknowledged that he understood, making a mental note to speak to Shimada the moment he was excused from the room.

“And here,” Kondo went on, pointing to a smaller building. “It appears to be a fishmonger’s hut, if I understand this mark. Check it out, see who owns it, let me know how much of a threat each are.”

“Hai, Kyokuchō!”

“Excellent! That’s all for now, Yamazaki-kun. Keep up the good work.”

Bowing to each man, Yamazaki moved to the door and then paused. Turning back, he spoke to Kondo.

“Excuse me, Commander, but how you would have me handle caring for Matsumori-kun’s wounds while I am away? She has requested that Todo-kumicho take my place, but...” He stopped, trying to think of how best to explain his hesitation.

“I believe Heisuke-kun would find the task...daunting. Is that what bothers you, Yamazaki-kun?” Inoue asked.

“Yes,” Yamazaki said, relieved that someone understood. “I do not doubt Todo-kumicho’s abilities in the least, but...he is more easily affected by his emotions. I believe Matsumori-kun might convince him to bypass the whole process.”

Kondo let out a small sigh, an affectionate smile gracing his lips. “Heisuke is a good man, but I see your point. It would not be easy for him to see someone in that condition. Still, if it must be done, there is a simple fix for this problem, Yamazaki-kun. You must make him see the importance of his task. He must know the dangers of what might happen should he not follow your instructions.”

“Thank you, Commander. I will do as you say.” With that, Yamazaki left the room.

Inoue chuckled softly, and Kondo glanced at him in askance.

“You have surrounded yourself with fine men, Isami-san,” he explained, waving a hand toward the door.

“Aa, I have indeed,” Kondo agreed with a smile.

 

 


	8. A Step in a New Direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamazaki remembers his past, Hijikata and Sannan deal with injuries, Heisuke has a tough time, and Takeda is his usual shitty self.

Looking up for a third time in an hour, Shimada sighed at the sight before him. Yamazaki sat at the small desk Kondo-san had supplied—a rare gift for those of lower rank than the captains—and scratched out another note from the book he was studying. Spread out around him was a stack of papers, a medical book, the infamous map, and an untouched tray of food. Knowing it would be fruitless to mention eating, Shimada stood and stretched, causing the younger man to glance up.

“Am I keeping you from sleep?” he asked.

“No, but you look to need rest yourself. How long have you been up now? Over twenty-four hours, ne? As a medic, I’m sure you would have words about that for someone else.”

Giving a wry smile, Yamazaki couldn’t argue with the statement. He looked around at the mess he’d created and sighed. “There is not enough time in the day, it seems.”

“Or you are taking on too much...”

“There is no choice. I only do what others cannot.”

“You do far more than you give yourself credit for,” Shimada said, raising a hand to stop the argument he knew was coming. “I’ll not say more. I’m going to make some tea. Sound good?”

Laying down his pen, Yamazaki arched his back and rubbed the stiff muscles in his neck. “Tea would be nice.”

Without another word, Shimada left their room and Yamazaki picked up the map he had been given to study. Tomorrow, he and Shimada would be surveying the area around Masuya’s shop. If luck was with them, they would be able to find temporary jobs in close proximity. They would also be looking into who visited the small fishing hut that had interested Kondo-kyokuchō so much.

Letting out a tired sigh, he gathered his papers, and looked over the small list he had made for Todo-kumicho. He double-checked each instruction to ensure he’d left nothing out, set it aside and rested his head on his hand for a moment. Shimada was right; he needed rest, but there was so much to do. He needed to focus on his medical studies as well, especially now that Sannan-sōchō was injured. When the shoji slid open a moment later, Yamazaki gave Shimada a wan smile. He accepted the small cup of tea, and then picked at the plate of food he’d forgotten to eat hours earlier.

“What is your greatest concern at the moment?” Shimada asked as he sat on his own futon with his tea.

“Sannan-sōchō’s injury...depending on the extent of his injury, I many not have the knowledge needed to assist him.”

“And what can be done about that? In a reasonable amount of time, that is? Can you learn enough in the days it would take for him to return to us?”

“I can try...”

“Nonsense. Nobody could learn that quickly. You ask too much.”

Yamazaki cast a sharp glance at his partner and then blew out a harsh breath. “Fine, I can’t learn quickly enough. But I can learn _more_.”

Shimada made a non-committal noise and then took a sip of tea. “What is the next item on your list, then?”

“The map...we need to discover what might be happening with all these Chōshu bastards that have suddenly shown up.”

“Alright, that’s something we can do something about... _tomorrow_. Next?”

Growing frustrated, Yamazaki looked down at the pages in his hand. Notes for possible medical care for Sannan, ideas on how to infiltrate certain areas of Kyoto where the sonnō jōi were known to gather, and finally, the list of instructions for Todo-kumicho.

“Matsumori-kun’s injuries. I will not be able to tend to them tomorrow if we are out.”

“Hmm...and you have a replacement, yes?”

Yamazaki looked doubtful, but nodded. “Todo-kumicho will be taking care of it.”

“Ah...and you worry, of course. I do believe it was he who took care of Ibuki-kun, however. Is that not correct?”

“Yes, but...”

“Then I believe that proves he is a capable enough young man. Wouldn’t you agree?” Shimada pressed.

“Yes, of course, but...”

“No buts about it. You are simply trying to take it all on yourself when there are others who can help. Now, you’ve made your list for Matsumori’s care. Are you worried that you’ve left something out?”

Shaking his head, Yamazaki could only give a small laugh. “You know me too well, Shimada-kun.”

“Let me look it over. I’m sure I will at least be able to spot anything that might be missing. I’ve learned a lot watching you, you know.”

The list was handed over and Shimada took his time, reading each point carefully. “I think you’ve done a more than adequate job. Anybody would be able to follow these instructions. Give our young captain a bit more credit, ne? He’s not as carefree as some believe.”

Yamazaki was silent for a moment, seriously considering his friend’s words. At last, he spoke, his voice much more quiet than before. “Do you know why I joined the Shinsengumi?”

“I have heard the story. You wanted to be a samurai, but while in Osaka, you felt you were acting no better than the men you were fighting. You came here to belong somewhere; to make a change for the better.”

“Yes, but...it was more than that. The reason I wanted to become a samurai in the first place...” He trailed off, his eyes falling once again to the list that Shimada held. “When I was a child of...about thirteen years, a child was brought to my father for care. There was nothing my father could do; his medical knowledge was vast, but nothing could have saved that child. He had been injured so badly...”

Shimada waited patiently for Yamazaki to gather his thoughts and continue. It was a part of the younger man’s story that he hadn’t heard before, and it was obviously a difficult topic for him to broach.

“This child, he couldn’t have been more than nine or ten, had been used as a way to gain information...a tool to be tossed aside. And when his injury made him useless for their causes, they left him to die. That...moment, when I overheard the man who brought the child to my father... _that_ was when I decided that I would become a samurai. To stop the people who would use a child to reach their goals. To stop the people who would cause such need for doctors.”

Silent for a moment, Shimada considered the tale he’d heard. He had wondered what it was about Matsumori-kun that kept Yamazaki so stressed. Her story was heart-breaking, of course, and terrible, but it had affected the young medic more severely and now the reason was clear. He set his tea down and rose to his feet.

“You are doing all that you can for her, and for Sannan-san, and for the Shinsengumi. But you have to remember to care for yourself, as well. What would we do if you were to become ill, eh? The whole place would fall apart.”

A small snort indicated what Yamazaki thought of that statement, but he did finish the tea and the now cold soup. Pushing the tray away, he rubbed his eyes and then stood.

“You are right. I can no longer think straight, and that does nobody any good. I’ll get some rest.”

Smiling and reaching to pick up the abandoned food, Shimada shuffled out of the room. Yamazaki stripped down to his fundoshi and crawled into bed, letting the silence of the night lull him to sleep.

***

Lying on a futon, staring at the ceiling, Sannan listened as Hijikata spoke with quiet intensity to the doctor. The two men must have thought Sannan was sleeping and he did nothing to contradict that presumption. He didn’t want to deal with people at the moment. The pain that had dulled to a deep throb with medication was back at full force this morning, and though he was loathe to admit it, that frightened him.

“When will travel be possible?” he heard Hijikata ask.

“Due to the extremity of the wound, I couldn’t suggest anything earlier than one month.”

A month?! Sannan gripped the sheet and closed his eyes. There was no way he would lie here and do nothing for an entire damned month; not when everything was just starting to come together for the Shinsengumi. He was needed. He sat up, the pain of that simple task nearly unbearable, and looked not at the doctor, but at Hijikata.

“I will be ready in one week’s time.” He held Hijikata’s gaze unwaveringly, not backing down even when the vice-commander drew his brows down in clear disagreement.

“I don’t recommend...” the doctor began.

“Yes, you have made that clear,” Sannan cut in, not looking away from his long-time comrade. “However, I have decided.”

Clenching his jaw, Hijikata gave a tight nod, his disapproval still evident in the look he cast. Sannan watched as he turned back to the doctor, and in clipped tones, restated what Sannan had already said.

“We will make the journey in one week’s time. Please do all you can to make this tolerable.”

“H-hai, I will do my best.” He scurried from the room, and Hijikata whirled around to face Sannan, all pretense of pleasantness fallen to the wayside.

“Have you lost your fucking mind? You can’t possibly...”

“Hijikata-kun, I am tired. I would like to sleep now,” Sannan told him coolly. “Please see yourself out.”

“Like hell I will!” Hijikata roared, leaping to his feet. “You’re not thinking clearly. Obviously. There is...”

Sannan waved an angry hand, silencing Hijikata immediately. “I have made my decision, whether you agree with it or not. If you are so worried about my ability to make such a trip, I suggest you let me rest as much as possible to build strength. This conversation is over.”

Lips pressing into a thin line, Hijikata turned and stormed from the room, his ponytail lashing wilding at his back. Sannan waited until the shoji clicked shut before letting out the breath he had been holding. He was tired; that hadn’t been a lie. But more than that, he wasn’t up to long drawn out arguments. He couldn’t let Hijikata-kun have his way this time. He simply could not.

Lying back on the futon, Sannan winced at the thrum of pain that radiated down his side from his shoulder. He reached over and touched the bandage with his good hand, tenderly running fingers along the cloth. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the horror that wanted to engulf him. He would get better. He had to get better. He looked at the small packet of medicine the doctor had left next to his bed.

Opium...it was something Sannan did not want in his body. Surely if he could withstand this pain, he could work to improve the movement he knew was hindered. Balling his hand into a tight fist, he swore that he would do everything necessary to improve. Ignoring the packet, he closed his eyes and forced himself to sleep.

Down the hall, Hijikata paced his room like a wild tiger. Anger rolled off him in palpable waves, and it took everything he had to stay put; to not go back to Sannan and demand he stop being so damned foolish! Letting a harsh sigh escape him, he moved to the desk and sat down. Drawing out a piece of paper, he dipped his pen and began to scratch out a message for Kondo. Half-way through the missive, Hijikata paused, reread what he’d written and crumpled the paper.

This wasn’t something to bother the commander with. This was his worry. He would have to handle it himself. Staring down at the pen still in hand, he considered his options. He could force Sannan to stay; pull rank and demand he do as ordered. He quickly tossed that thought aside. As tempting as it was, it would serve no purpose other than setting Sannan against him. Could Sannan make the trip in one week? Was it possible? What injuries might be incurred? Surely, if Hijikata had the doctor explain, Sannan would see the light.

***

Heisuke was at the well washing up and preparing for the day when Yamazaki appeared at his side, silent and resolute.

“Sumimasen, Todo-kumicho. May I have a moment of your time?”

Glancing up at the shinobi, Heisuke dried his face and hands. “Sure! What’s up?”

Yamazaki gave a furtive look around the open courtyard and then beckoned for Heisuke to follow him. They moved to the common room, and Yamazaki apologized for the inconvenience, stating that Hijikata had requested he be careful not to be seen by Yukimura. Heisuke waved off the apology and, bursting with curiosity, bounced on his heels while he waited for an explanation for the meeting.

“My duties will be taking me away for a day, possibly two,” Yamazaki began. “However, Matsumori-kun will still need treatment. She has requested that you stand in while I am gone.”

A startled expression crossed Heisuke’s features. “Me? Why me? What...treatment?”

“I can only assume it is because she feels comfortable in your presence. As for her care, you will be cleaning the wounds on her back and feet.” Yamazaki cleared his throat and added, “Matsumori-kun will most likely attempt to convince you that she is fine and needs no treatment. You must not let her sway you. It is imperative that she receive this care to prevent infection from spreading. If that were to happen, it would prove very problematic for her, even so far as death.”

Heisuke’s eyes widened at that and he bit his lip, but he remained uncharacteristically silent as he waited to hear more. Encouraged by the unexpected reaction, Yamazaki continued.

“The process will be painful for her, and it will likely upset her stomach. She will need a small amount of food in her system before you begin—onigiri or a small cup of broth would be sufficient.”

Heisuke frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but changed his mind and snapped it shut. He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away before returning his eyes to the medic.

“What if I forget something?! I mean...this is pretty important and, well...you know.” He gave a small shrug. “Sometimes, I forget things.”

“I have taken the liberty of writing the instructions down for you,” Yamazaki told him, handing him a small piece of paper.

Taking the list in hand, Heisuke scanned each item, his face growing paler the further down he read. Mumbling the list aloud, he went through each item.

~ Gather the following items: small amount of food, jug of fresh water, cleaning cloths (supplied), medicine for tea (supplied)

~ Announce yourself and ensure Matsumori is dressed properly before entering. Let her know she needs to prepare for the cleansing.

~ Allow her to eat while you heat the water.

~ Tend to her feet first. Before moving to her back, prepare the medicated tea (instructions supplied) and have her drink it.

~ Use firm but gentle strokes that move in the same direction as the wound. Take time to note any red streaks, swelling, or fever.

~ Make sure to pat the area dry before allowing her to redress or before wrapping her feet.

Sucking in a deep breath, Heisuke gave Yamazaki a determined look and said, “I’ll do my best, I promise!”

Yamazaki nodded and then paused. After considering his words, he spoke. “Sometimes it soothes Matsumori-kun to have someone near after the process is completed. She will likely fall asleep quickly, due to the properties of the tea.”

“I’ll stay with her! Oh...unless Gen-san calls me away. I’m supposed to do some things for him today.”

“Inoue-kumicho has given his approval. I spoke to him before seeking you out.” He gave a small bow and excused himself, leaving Heisuke to stare after him.

Finally collecting his thoughts, Heisuke moved to gather the items Yamazaki hadn’t provided, and then made his way to Katsu’s room. He stood with a jug in one hand and cleaning strips in the other, shifting from foot to foot nervously. Expelling a heavy sigh, he announced himself.

At first, there was no response, and Heisuke contemplated poking his head in to see if Katsu was awake. But, remembering the very short nightshirt he had seen on their first meeting, he quickly reconsidered his options, and decided to announce himself again.

“Katsu? It’s me, Heisuke!” he said, his voice rising a bit more than normal.

“Heisuke?”

“Yeah! Can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure!”

Sliding the door open, Heisuke stepped inside and glanced over to the futon where Katsu sat, smiling. Her smile faltered a bit when she saw the jug and cleaning strips he brought in with him.

“I...I’m here to clean your wounds,” he mumbled, flustered by her expression.

Katsu sighed. She hated the cleaning ritual. It was painful and it made her feel sick to her stomach. But most of all, it was a reminder of all the things she wanted to forget. Some of what she was thinking must have shown on her face because Heisuke came over and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder.

“Yamazaki-kun said that you might not be very happy to see me this time.”

“Let’s just hurry and get it over with, okay?”

Quickly nodding his assent, Heisuke hopped up and set the water jug next to the brazier. “I’m going to go get you some food. While I’m gone, you have to get ready for washing and stuff. Yamazaki-kun said you would know what to do?”

“Yeah, I know.”

While he was gone, Katsu slipped off her juban and turned it around, making sure to keep her chest covered as Yamazaki had instructed and pulled her blanket up over her back. She stretched her legs out, but left them covered, showing only her feet. She sighed again, and pressed her lips together in an attempt to prepare herself for the pain that was coming. By the time Heisuke returned with her food, her nerves were like steel.

“Here you go! Eat this while the water heats up, okay?” he told her, setting the tray at her feet. “I’ll bring more later...this is just to tide you over.”

Nibbling on the onigiri, Katsu watched as Heisuke prepared everything. He wasn’t as methodical as the medic, but he seemed to be doing the same things. She noticed that he kept pausing to look at a piece of paper in his hand, and when he finally brought the warmed water over, she asked him about it.

“Oh...” He gave a sheepish grin. “Yamazaki-kun wanted to make sure I did everything just right, and since I’m kind of forgetful, he wrote it down for me!”

“I forget things, too,” Katsu told him with a shrug. “Can I see it? What’s it say?”

“Sure!” He passed the slip of paper to her, and she took it, carefully scanning it.

“What does it say?” she finally repeated.

“Huh? Ohhh! Oh, sorry. Let’s see. This first part just says to make sure I announce myself and that you’re dressed and stuff. Then this one tells how I’m supposed prepare the medicine. I’m on this next one now,” he told her, pointing to the cleaning instructions. “It tells me exactly how to take care of your feet and your back.”

Katsu traced her finger over the script, a small smile pulling at her lips. “It’s so pretty,” she said, glancing up at Heisuke.

“Hmn? Yeah, I guess so. Yamazaki-kun writes very...precisely. But you should see Hijikata-san’s! Very flashy, you know?”

“I like Yamazaki-sensei’s.” She paused and then asked, “Can you write, too, Heisuke?”

“Well, yeah, but nothing fancy, you know? Not neat like this,” he said, indicating the page. Waiting a beat, he drew a steadying breath. “We should get started now, okay?”

Brows drew down over anxious eyes, but she nodded and handed the list back to Heisuke. He set it aside, thought better of it, and picked it up again.

Pointing to the next item on the list, he said, “This is what I’m going to do—says to start with your feet so, I guess that’s what we’ll do.”

“I was asleep when they were cleaned up before,” Katsu said, peeking down at her wrapped toes. “What’s he say to do?”

“Well, he didn’t write that part down. He told me, though. I have to unwrap them, wash them up with this medicated water and then wrap them back up with clean cloths. No big deal, right?”

“Right!”

Heisuke bent over her legs and began to work, careful to do exactly what Yamazaki had told him. Once he finished, he sat back and read the list.

“Okay, I need to fix your tea real quick. Then I’ll start on your back.”

He moved to the brazier and poured a small amount of hot water into a cup, then emptied the contents of the packet Yamazaki had given him into the mix. Swirling it slowly, he walked back to the futon and handed the drink to Katsu.

“Drink up! It’s your medicine.”

Katsu did as instructed, and then set the cup down on the floor.

“Ready?” Heisuke asked. At Katsu’s affirmation, he moved behind her and pulled the blanket away. “Holy shit,” he breathed, reaching out to gently touch one of the raised welts. “I...I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“It’s not, anymore! It’s much better. But...it is kind of cold so could we get started?”

“Oh, right, sorry!” He hesitated and then added, “I’ll try to be careful....”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it now. It’ll be fine.”

Heisuke frowned, but took the first cleaning strip and dipped it in the bucket. “Okay...” he warned before he began. The process took nearly forty minutes to complete, and by the end of it, Katsu had buried her face in her knees. Her back was raw and screaming with pain.

“Y-you okay, Katsu? I wasn’t too...rough, was I?” He sat next to her and waited anxiously for her reply.

“I’m okay,” she replied, tightly. “I just....need a minute.” She took in a shaky breath.

“I’m really sorry,” Heisuke mumbled, sitting down next to her.

Shaking her head, Katsu gave him a weak smile. “It’ll be fine. It’s already feeling better.”

Heisuke was quiet as he watched Katsu from the corner of his eye. Her whole body was trembling and he wasn’t sure what to do. Yamazaki hadn’t prepared him for that. And he was angry because he didn’t know what to do.

“I’m going...to be sick...” Katsu whispered, looking around wildly for the bucket Yamazaki usually set out for her.

“Oh!!” He scrambled to his feet and dashed to the brazier, grabbing up the empty bucket sitting there. “Here!” He slid it in front of her just in time for her to empty her stomach. “Ah, your hair!” He pulled it back out of the way, his eyes full of worry.

He waited until he was certain she was finished before settling back on his heels. Silently, he handed her a cup of water. She rinsed her mouth and spat into the bucket, then drank the rest of the water. Finally, she moved away and ran a shaky hand through her tangled hair.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

A small shake of his head was all Heisuke could manage. He got up and grabbed the bucket, then went to the door. “You can get dressed now, Katsu. I...I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, she watched him leave before sliding her juban back around the proper way and retied the ribbons. Lying down, she closed her eyes, tired and anxious. By the time Heisuke returned a few minutes later, she was asleep.

***

Kanryusai Takeda, captain of the Shinsengumi’s fifth unit, strolled languidly into the courtyard of the Yagi residence in search of Kondo. He had wanted to speak with the leader for weeks about certain ideas, but was always thwarted, either by the vice-commander, or by that dratted brat, Souji Okita. Now, with Hijikata out of the way for a while, Takeda was willing to try again. He was sure he could handle Okita, if need be.

Walking along the engawa, he kept his eyes moving, making sure to stay out of sight of anyone who might wish to stop him. Rounding a corner that lead to the common room, he halted and moved swiftly backward. Standing just outside of the kitchen, Saito worked through a series of movements with his sword. But that wasn’t Takeda’s biggest concern. Sitting on the walkway, only a few feet away, was Okita. He was watching Saito’s every move with a small grin lifting the corners of his lips. 

Pressing his back against the wall, Takeda thought quickly. How could he reach the common room without passing by the kitchen? Why in the hell were they practicing here, anyway? He peeped around the corner again, just in time to see Saito slip his sword back into its sheath. Okita was standing and facing toward the common room, and Saito turned in the same direction. Following where they were looking with his gaze, Takeda spotted Kondo walking toward them, a smile on his face.

“Souji! You’ve come to keep Saito-kun company?”

Okita’s response was less easy to decipher, and Saito’s couldn’t be heard at all. Takeda cursed under his breath. He wanted to move closer, but knew better. He silently stewed at being hindered yet again, but couldn’t pull himself away from the scene. He needed to know what was going on.

“I’ll be here for the next hour or so. You boys have that much time to go spar, if you wish,” Kondo’s voice drifted across the yard.

At his words, both of his captains commented and then walked away, their heads close together as they discussed something. Kondo opened the door to the empty room next to the kitchen and went inside. Takeda scratched his chin, confused by what he’d seen. What the hell was in that room? Why was the commander of the Shinsengumi there? Was it of import or just some silly whim?

Straightening himself from where he stood hiding, Takeda made a move toward the room. He was a captain, too. He deserved to know just as much as Saito...or Okita. He reached the engawa quickly and stepped up, pausing just a moment before announcing himself. A half-second later, Kondo slid the door open just a fraction.

“Takeda-kun! What on earth? Do you need something?” Kondo asked, his eyes wide.

“I was hoping to speak to you about a few things, Kondo-kyokuchō. I haven’t been able to do so recently, and thought now would be an opportune time. When I saw you come in here, I thought you might need assistance.” He craned his neck to try and see around the commander, but Kondo obstructed his view.

“I thank you for your concern, but I have things well in hand here. Now really isn’t a good time. Perhaps we could speak after supper?”

Trying in vain one more time to see around the man, Takeda finally acquiesced. “I would appreciate your time, sir!”

“Very well, after our meal, then.” Kondo refused to move until Takeda backed away from the door.

Glaring at the shoji as it shut, Takeda fumed. He hated being left in the dark about things, especially when they concerned the commander. How was he supposed to do his job—or better yet, move up—if things were hidden from him? Turning on his heel, he stomped away from the room with a scowl fixed on his face. He would just have to come back later and see for himself what was so important that it required two guards and the commander’s personal time.

***

“Was that supposed to be part of my punishment or something?” Heisuke practically yelled as he stormed into Nagakura’s room and flopped himself on the futon that hadn’t been put away.

Harada glanced up, breaking from the conversation he’d been having with Nagakura.

“What’s up, squirt?” he asked, a touch of concern in his voice.

“I had to....clean Katsu’s wounds...her back...have you seen it?”

The two older men exchanged glances and Harada replied, “No, I haven’t but I’ve seen some of the burns and bruises. Is it bad?”

“It’s bad....and that’s not even the worst of it,” Heisuke told them, his voice catching in his throat. “She just sits there and says ‘it’s okay...it’s fine’ like that’s normal or something. Who...who does that to people?”

Nagakura sat forward and Harada moved to sit next to the younger man, placing a calming hand on his shoulder.

“Sometimes people aren’t worth the air they breathe, Heisuke. Those Chōshu bastards are proof of that.”

Heisuke sighed and turned his head. “I don’t know if I can do that again,” he admitted. “I don’t...” He shook his head and rolled over on his stomach, covering his head with a pillow.

Harada looked to Nagakura with a frown.

“It’s a tough thing to see, squirt, but you gotta man up. The kid needs this, right? And she picked you?” Nagakura said carefully.

“I know,” came the mumbled reply.

“Look, I sat with her through the sutures. Maybe she’d be okay with me taking over, huh?” Harada offered, waving Nagakura away.

Heisuke sat up and looked hopeful. “Do you think so? I mean...of course I’ll do it if...if she won’t let you or something, but...like you said, you’ve been there before so maybe...”

“I’ll check into it. I don’t have rounds tomorrow until late, so it should be fine.”

A small silence fell over the room, and finally Nagakura broke in with an attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. “Why the hell are you two in my room, anyway?” He rose to his feet and playfully shoved Harada’s shoulder. “Can’t you go mope in your own spaces?”

“Because your room is bigger than ours!” Heisuke piped up, his face brightening a bit.

“By a centimeter at most, you little shit. And get off my bed!”

The three men broke into a small scuffle, all falling on the futon with Heisuke squashed on the bottom.

“Hey! Get. Off! I can’t breathe, you idiots!” he yelled, shoving and kicking his feet.

A sharp tug on his ponytail and a quick ‘shhh’ quieted him down, but it didn’t still his legs. Thrashing around until he was out from under the pile, he leaped to the top and wrapped both arms and legs around Nagakura in a tight hold.

“Aaaarrghhh!” Nagakura muscled his way straight up, knocking Harada on his ass in the process. Heisuke clung to him with everything he had as Nagakura spun in a circle trying to get a hold on some part of him.

“I’m not coming off until you apologize for... for...well, just apologize!” Heisuke cried out, tightening his grip.

Harada kept his seat, laughing at the scene, glad that his young friend had, for a moment, forgotten his troubles. He slid backward, rose to his feet and, letting the two of them have their fun, slipped from the room unnoticed.

 

 

 


End file.
